Nikaido Tokuyo (1880-1941)

Feb. 6th, 2026 09:44 pm
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[This got quite long! The Japanese Wikipedia page goes into unbelievable detail.]

Nikaido Tokuyo was born in 1880 in a mountain village in Miyagi. She finished her schooling at fifteen and became an elementary school teacher’s aide in the same year, like many rural girls; her students enjoyed their bouncy young teacher. Deciding to get formal education credentials, she applied first to the Miyagi Normal School, which no longer had a women’s department, and then to the Fukushima Normal School, which told her she had to be a resident of Fukushima; nothing daunted, she got herself adopted (on paper) by the editor of a Fukushima newspaper, started school, and graduated in 1899. At the Normal School she found the old-fashioned gym classes boring, but did well in them as a student teacher, allowed to wear her “sports” outfit (tight sleeves and a hakama) on a daily basis.

Teaching once again, she encountered Naganuma Chieko, the older sister of one of her students; they became lifelong friends. In 1900 she took leave and entered the Women’s Higher Normal School in Tokyo, where she studied pedagogy with Yasui Tetsu as well as gym and poetry. She graduated in 1904 and went to teach at the Ishikawa Girls’ Higher School, where—having expected to teach Japanese—she found herself assigned to gym classes; resentful at first, she found they improved her own health as well as her students’, and began taking gymnastics lessons with Frances Kate Morgan, a local Canadian missionary. Eventually she progressed to coaching local elementary school teachers in gymnastics instruction. A gymnastics demonstration at which students danced the quadrille, with a live band sponsored by the prefectural governor (whose daughter was among the students) was so popular that local high school boys, unable to get tickets, climbed over the fence and caused a minor riot.

Tokuyo was transferred to Kochi in 1907; there she became famous for reading Shakespeare to her students while they rested in the shade between exercises. In 1911 she took up a position at the Women’s Higher Normal School, where she briefly worked with Inokuchi Akuri; the following year, the Ministry of Education sent her to England to study gymnastics. There, under Martina Bergman-Österberg, she was able to study systematically in comparison to the bits-and-pieces, mix-and-match approach she had followed so far (her instructors were surprised at how little she knew about standard gymnastics).

After her return to Japan in 1915, she taught dance, gymnastics, games, and sports (including cricket, the fruit of her study in England) at the Higher Normal School as well as Tokyo Women’s University, publishing several books as well. After some clashes with her colleagues, she resolved to set up her own school. In 1919 she formed the Association of Women Gymnastics Teachers; in 1922 she founded the Nikaido Gymnastics School to research women’s physical education and train women teachers; it was her stance that women should educate women. In addition to Tokuyo herself, instructors included various military doctors and athletes as well as her little brothers, who showed up to teach Japanese, while her mother Kin—once a tough farm girl who hated sewing—ran the dormitory. In 1925, stimulated by the matriculation of the Olympic runner Hitomi Kinue, Tokuyo decided that her school needed to train athletes as well as teachers. The school was approved as the Japan Women’s Vocational School of Physical Education in 1926.

In her later years Tokuyo became increasingly nationalist as Japan slid toward wartime status; she had a perpetual adoration for the military. She died in 1941 at the age of sixty. (In 1943, a newspaper printed her thoughts on the establishment of a women’s physical education exam; the text actually came from her brother, but she was considered better news regardless of the fact that she had already been dead for two years.) Among her students were the dance teacher Tokura Haru, who was instrumental in keeping the school solvent, and the politician Yamashita Harue; Tokuyo’s school remains in existence as the Japan Women’s College of Physical Education. She was said to have had the powerful voice of an opera singer, or rather of the gym teacher she was; she also had a repertoire of insults to rival Captain Haddock, including “jelly on horseback!” “rotten washcloth!” “misshapen rock candy!” and so on.

Sources
https://www.jwcpe.ac.jp/college_info/idea/founder/ (Japanese) Includes a picture of Tokuyo with her students in uniform

Romance challenge

Feb. 6th, 2026 12:53 pm
mekare: Merlin: Gwen looking pretty in her yellow dress (Gwen)
[personal profile] mekare posting in [community profile] drawesome
Title: Sophie at the Ball
Artist: [personal profile] mekare
Rating: G
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV)
Character: Sophie Baek
Content Notes: blue paper, white gel pen, Sakura Pigma 0.2

Clicky preview: a masked young woman in a ballroom dress gasping in surprise

(no subject)

Feb. 6th, 2026 10:23 am
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[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] rymenhild!
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[personal profile] petra
I was despairing of the 73% of American Republicans who are on team GO ICE in a poll NPR just published asking whether ICE has gone too far -- and the 7% of Democrats and 29% percent of Independents who are with them.

[personal profile] hannah talked me down by pointing out that, as discussed in the linked conversation, 27% of Illinois voted for Alan Keyes over Barack Obama, which was patently bananas.

I remember a certain male role model in my life talking up Alan Keyes. This does not increase my faith in his understanding of politics, or indeed his inhabiting of the same planet I do.
yhlee: Alto clef and whole note (middle C). (Default)
[personal profile] yhlee
Wanted y’all to hear it from me: CROWNWORLD (book 3 of the Moonstorm trilogy) is canceled. I will not be completing the book (the trilogy). I’m very sorry to readers who were hoping for the conclusion.

This was a mutually agreed, amicable decision between the primary/US publisher (Delacorte), the UK publisher (Rebellion Publishing - Solaris Books), and myself.

Between sales and publishing realities (MOONSTORM sold poorly and its prospects are unlikely to improve for political reasons you can guess), this was a rare situation where this benefits both publishers and myself. I could not announce the cancellation earlier for legal/contract reasons, and can't "simply" release the partial draft of CROWNWORLD for same.

I didn’t plan on MOONSTORM being a market failure. But novel-writing is a career with baked-in instability and career risk. I knew that going in.

Abbreviated version of what happened on my end:
I have 66,000 words of a near-finished draft that I don’t plan on resuming. The breaking point was when I had a concussion in March 2025.

You might ask why I don’t “just” yeet the last 10,000 words to have a book for release to readers even if the print publishers are no longer interested in publishing it. After illness and family crises, I’m exhausted. More than one person close to me nearly died; I set writing aside for months to do caretaking. I have peripheral neuropathy (among other things); my hands and feet might recover, or they might get worse and curtail my ability to do the things that bring me joy.

Both my publishers extended incredible grace and kindness to me during this period. This is not on them. The trilogy existence failure is on me.

I’m moving on. I’ve spent the past several years writing ~three books every two years (or 1.5 books per year - releases won't line up because of production/publishing variables). This probably sounds slow/leisurely but was not sustainable with my health as unstable as it is. There would have been a breaking point down the line even if it hadn’t happened with this specific book. I'm going to spend some time on endeavors just for the joy of it.

I hope y’all have many books you’re looking forward to reading, by other writers.

Note: I’m not in financial distress at present. Please don’t worry on that account.

Best,
YHL

Online attending conference

Feb. 5th, 2026 10:21 am
oursin: George Beresford photograph of the young Rebecca West in a large hat, overwritten 'Neither a doormat nor a prostitute' (Neither a doormat nor a prostitute)
[personal profile] oursin

(This may get updated over the course of the day)

After struggling to get Zoom link downloaded and operating etc, managed to get into first session I wanted to attend, Foundling Hospital in early C20th, good grief, practices had not changed much in a century had they? Recipe for trauma in mothers, children, and the foster mothers who actually bonded with the children until they were taken away to be eddicated according to their station in life.

Then switched to a different panel and was IRKED by a lit person talking about the Women's Cooperative Guild Maternity: Letters from Working Women (1915) which they had only just encountered ahem ahem - was republished by I think Virago? Pandora? in 1970s - and women's history has done quite a bit on the WCG since then so JEEZ I was peeved at her assumption that the working women were not agents but the whole thing was being run by the upper/middle class activists who were most visibly involved. And wanted to query whether working women thought it was very useful to have posh laydeez able to put their cases re maternity, child welfare and so on in corridors of power, rather than deferentially curtseying??? (I should like to go back in time and ask my dear Stella Browne about that.)

Also on wymmynz voices not, or at least hard to trace, in the archives, I fancy this person does not know a) Marie Stopes' volume Mother England (1929), extracts of letters she had from women about motherhood and b) based on 1000s of letters surviving and available to researchers. I could, indeed, point to other resources, fume, mutter.

Update Well, there were some later papers I dropped in on and enjoyed (and was able to offer comment/questions on; but I was obliged to point out certain errors in a description of Joanna Russ's The Female Man (really I think if you are going to cite a work you should check details....) (and I suppose Mitchison's work was just outside the remit of what they were talking about, so I was very self-restrained and failed to go on about Naomi.)

(no subject)

Feb. 5th, 2026 10:16 am
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] coffeeandink!
oursin: Photograph of small impressionistic metal figurine seated reading a book (Reader)
[personal profile] oursin

What I read

Finished The Doxies Penalty - I wonder where my copies of the first two in the sequence have got to? should like to revisit.

Kent Haruf, Plainsong (1999) - I think I mentioned when reading another work by Haruf that I had been intrigued by an essay in a collection by Ursula Le Guin about his novels, so I was looking out for these at 'taking a punt' prices. I feel that, um, admire the writing, the subtle subdued effects etc etc etc but not impelled to rush out and acquire everything he ever wrote.

For a massive change of pace, Megan Abbott, El Dorado Drive (2025) which was good if grim noirish about sisters who were brought up in comfort and then the economy crashed, getting caught up in a rather creepy pyramid-type scheme.

Then another change of pace, Julia Quinn, Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Bridgertons, #4) (2004) as it was on Kobo promotion and I felt maybe I should given these a whirl, but not massively taken. Kind of slow.

Then yet another Dick Francis, Decider (1993), pretty good, even if we have yet another dysfunctional privileged family (this one owns, or at least, is in the process of inheriting, a racecourse), at least one of whom is a raging psychopath. The competence-porn in this one involves architecture, in particular restoration of ruined buildings, with a side-trip to erecting a big top and how circuses deal with potential fires etc (plot-relevant).

On the go

Somebody somewhere some while ago was mentioning Somerset Maugham's Cakes and Ale (1930), which I literally read in my schooldays and never since, and had it mentally on a list to look at again, so downloaded it from The Faded Page and am well stuck in. Love Our Narrator being bitchy about Literary Circles, not so much enthralled by the actual plot.

Up next

Dunno. It's that time of year when I really have no idea what I want to read. Maybe that book about the Bigfoot Community?

Winter Olympics and Discovery+

Feb. 4th, 2026 06:17 pm
vivdunstan: Test card (tv)
[personal profile] vivdunstan
As with Paris we’ve taken out a one month Discovery+ subscription (£3.99*) so we can watch the Olympics, this time the Winter Olympics. With better viewing options and more live streams than will be on the BBC. The Winter Olympics have already started some sports, and we are currently tuned in live to a British (well two Scots) Winter Olympics curling match.

* the £3.99/month Entertainment package includes the 2026 Winter Olympics. No need to go for the phenomenally expensive £30+/month TNT Sports option.

(no subject)

Feb. 4th, 2026 09:43 am
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] aquila1nz and [personal profile] wychwood!
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[staff profile] mark posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance

Hi all!

I'm doing some minor operational work tonight. It should be transparent, but there's always a chance that something goes wrong. The main thing I'm touching is testing a replacement for Apache2 (our web server software) in one area of the site.

Thank you!

oursin: Drawing of hedgehog in a cave, writing in a book with a quill pen (Writing hedgehog)
[personal profile] oursin

So yesterday I had further converse with another person apropos giving a talk as part of a series of events in connection with an exhibition of archives at a local record office some months hence and they sound keen, and it is something I can do, and have a fair amount of material including visual stuff already. Plus, besides expenses, there will also be a modest honorarium - they actually asked what do I usually get paid - errrr.

So there's that.

And the long review essay is finally in production and while I had some rather confusing emails about this yesterday I think this is down to Academic Journals Having Really Confusing Systems, it is indeed going ahead, and I was obliged to compose a short biographical note, both to reflect current institutional state and also be pertinent to topics addressed in review (my last bio note leaned rather heavily on my relationship with Sid).

And I am beginning to get to grips with article for review, though slightly fearing I may be Interrogating From the Wrong Perspective (journal is Not My Disciplinary Field, though article certainly overlaps it).

Have had the very cheering news that a conference I thought I would never get to again because it would involve transatlantic travel, is coming to London next year, yay yay yay, I am already pondering a paper.

In other personal news, have booked dental checkup and hygienist appointment for next week.

And in other news, the National Trust has reached its target to buy the land around the Cerne Giant:

The money will be used to improve access to the 55-metre (180ft) figure and to link up a patchwork of habitats, improving conditions for species such as the rare Duke of Burgundy butterfly.
It will also enable further archaeological work to help solve the enduring mystery of whom the giant depicts, and when and why it was created.

Things

Feb. 2nd, 2026 03:29 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin

Like they would have painted a sinister sixth finger (come on down Mr Cromwell insisting on the warts): Hidden detail found in Anne Boleyn portrait was ‘witchcraft rebuttal’, say historians. Hmmm. Oh yeah? Am cynical.

***

Overlooked women artists (maybe I will mosey on down to the Courtauld....): The Courtauld’s riveting, revelatory and deeply researched show of ten lost female painters looks afresh at the golden age of British landscape art:

Some of Mary Smirke’s pictures were ascribed to her brother and Elizabeth Batty’s entire output was assumed to have been her son’s.

***

Men are poor stuff. Men are terribly poor stuff. Men covertly filming women at night and profiting from footage, BBC finds.

***

The Black Beauty in the White House: this is actually about the famous horse book, which was written in a house of that name. In Norfolk.

This is the story of a child from a coastal town in Norfolk, who would go on to influence life around the world and who is just as famous today. Not Horatio Nelson, but rather Anna Sewell, the author of Black Beauty. She managed to not only influence the lives of people but also horses (and possibly many other animals as well) with the story, published only a few months before her death.

***

This looks fascinating though I need to read it a lot more closely: Right place, right time: Luck, geography, and politics:

On 12th May 2020, Mass Observation collected c5,000 diaries from people across the UK. Many of these diaries mention luck and many of these luck stories are geography stories. Geographers, though, have not written much about luck. In this article, I review the literature on luck from within and beyond geography to construct a working definition and geographical approach to luck. The working definition describes luck as chance, fortuitous, unexpected events that were beyond the control of those for whom they are now significant. The geographical approach distinguishes four geographical aspects of luck: the geometry of luck; lucky places; right place, right time; and the practical sphere.

but she was far from asleep

Feb. 2nd, 2026 11:30 pm
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[personal profile] nnozomi
It’s been shared in many places on my f-list but here again: https://www.standwithminnesota.com/ . 心疼.

Reading Cymbeline with yaaurens and company, mostly striking for the “Fear no more the heat of the sun” song—which works backward in me, calling up the books I’ve read where it’s quoted, including the chilling and well-judged use in Pamela Dean’s The Dubious Hills, and Nicola Marlow singing it and making first her mother and then herself cry with its associations of Jon and Jael.

A couple of Chinese jokes with A-Pei: she’s an expert baker who recently ventured into brownies and then into blondies, which we decided should be called 小金发 in Chinese. Also, an exchange about work thus. Me: I had to translate something about the Abominable Snowman for a psychological test of some kind, can you believe it? What is that, 雪男? A-Pei: lol, that sounds like the husband of 雪女, you know that Japanese goddess Yuki-onna? We’d say 雪怪 for the yeti. Me: somehow I don’t think Yuki-onna has plans to marry a yeti…

I learned from grayswandir that 搞掂 in Cantonese is what you say when you finish a job or a task, and was delighted to discover that the similarly used Mandarin term 搞定, which I already knew, is actually a borrowing from this Cantonese word!

Argument against machine translation #179544: Pink plastic tray with a Kitty-chan theme, which lists as its first raw ingredient 人民解放军, the People’s Liberation Army. Your country needs YOU to be transmuted into Kitty-chan!? I thought, and then figured it out… plastic --> pla --> PLA…

New musical discovery: Piano Sonata #1 by the extremely hyphenated Sophie-Carmen [Fridman-Kochevskaya] Eckhardt-Gramatté , which starts out a la maniere de Bach and very quickly gets much weirder and more Romantic, a lot of fun.

Jiang Dunhao song of the post: 你要的爱, a duet with Li Hao ideal for the combination of their voices.

Once in a way I like to act like the good Japanese housewife I’m really not, and one way is to make buri daikon in the winter—yellowtail and daikon radish stewed with the classic Japanese holy trinity, or rather 3+1, of soy sauce, cooking sake, mirin, and sugar, plus ginger on top. It’s very simple and usually turns out pretty well (see photo below); Y eats most of it, because I’m cursed to like the taste and texture of fish but hate anything that might have tiny bones in it.

Last week I had two in-person events of a purely social nature in three days, which never happens. One was a girls’ night out of sorts, women from the company I used to work at (and still freelance for), some former close colleagues, including Misa who was the most patient boss I could have asked for and Yu-jie who helps me practice Chinese, as well as others I used to know and some I’d never met, about two dozen of us, mostly middle-aged, eating cheap Chinese food and drinking according to capacity and chattering. Someone got me a glass of coffee liqueur with milk which was delicious and evil and I got much tipsier than I usually do. Yu-jie and another Chinese woman, Cho-san (Zhao or Zhang but I don’t know which) and I sat around talking in two languages; Cho-san and I delighted each other because she’d heard of my farmboys and I had heard of her own recent obsession, that hockey gay romance show. (“I know I wouldn’t really meet them if I went to Canada, but I still want to go!” “I feel just the same way about going to China!”). Rina-san, the organizer, played around with the group photo we took to results as shown below (I don’t usually post my own face online but this time I feel I can get away with it, especially since the app didn’t know what to do with me and made me look East Asian like everyone else there).

The other event was lunch with my former student D; we stay loosely in touch and meet up every couple of years. As usual he did most of the talking, mostly about his work and what he hopes to do, a little about his marriage and the other kids he went to high school with and so on. It’s funny. The gap between teens and early thirties, as we were when I was teaching him high school English, is enormous; the gap between early thirties and late forties, where we are now, is a lot less momentous. We’re not the same generation, but we’ve both lived in other countries, worked various jobs, married, lost a parent, and so on, we can and do interact as fellow adults with shared experiences. At the same time, he…damn, there is no good way to say 甘える in English (or in Chinese as far as I know), he knows I’ll let him get away with things? because I was his teacher when we met, and I’ve known him since he was fifteen, more than half his life. So he can be self-centered with me in a way he might not with someone he’d met as an adult. I’m very fond of him.

Something reminded me of The Young Visiters for the first time in ages, and I looked it up on Gutenberg; didn’t reread all of it but found this delightful romantic passage from near the end. (I think I like “well some people do he added kindly” in particular, but it’s all great.)
Bernard at once hired a boat to row his beloved up the river. Ethel could not row but she much enjoyed seeing the tough sunburnt arms of Bernard tugging at the oars as she lay among the rich cushons of the dainty boat. She had a rarther lazy nature but Bernard did not know of this. However he soon got dog tired and sugested lunch by the mossy bank.
Oh yes said Ethel quickly opening the sparkling champaigne.
Dont spill any cried Bernard as he carved some chicken.
They eat and drank deeply of the charming viands ending up with merangs and choclates.
Let us now bask under the spreading trees said Bernard in a passiunate tone.
Oh yes lets said Ethel and she opened her dainty parasole and sank down upon the long green grass. She closed her eyes but she was far from asleep. Bernard sat beside her in profound silence gazing at her pink face and long wavy eye lashes. He puffed at his pipe for some moments while the larks gaily caroled in the blue sky. Then he edged a trifle closer to Ethels form.
Ethel he murmured in a trembly voice.
Oh what is it said Ethel hastily sitting up.
Words fail me ejaculated Bernard horsly my passion for you is intense he added fervently. It has grown day and night since I first beheld you.
Oh said Ethel in supprise I am not prepared for this and she lent back against the trunk of the tree.
Bernard placed one arm tightly round her. When will you marry me Ethel he uttered you must be my wife it has come to that I love you so intensly that if you say no I shall perforce dash my body to the brink of yon muddy river he panted wildly.
Oh dont do that implored Ethel breathing rarther hard.
Then say you love me he cried.
Oh Bernard she sighed fervently I certinly love you madly you are to me like a Heathen god she cried looking at his manly form and handsome flashing face I will indeed marry you.
How soon gasped Bernard gazing at her intensly.
As soon as possible said Ethel gently closing her eyes.
My Darling whispered Bernard and he seiezed her in his arms we will be marrid next week.
Oh Bernard muttered Ethel this is so sudden.
No no cried Bernard and taking the bull by both horns he kissed her violently on her dainty face. My bride to be he murmered several times.
Ethel trembled with joy as she heard the mistick words.
Oh Bernard she said little did I ever dream of such as this and she suddenly fainted into his out stretched arms.
Oh I say gasped Bernard and laying the dainty burden on the grass he dashed to the waters edge and got a cup full of the fragrant river to pour on his true loves pallid brow.
She soon came to and looked up with a sickly smile Take me back to the Gaierty hotel she whispered faintly.
With plesure my darling said Bernard I will just pack up our viands ere I unloose the boat.
Ethel felt better after a few drops of champagne and began to tidy her hair while Bernard packed the remains of the food. Then arm in arm they tottered to the boat.
I trust you have not got an illness my darling murmured Bernard as he helped her in.
Oh no I am very strong said Ethel I fainted from joy she added to explain matters.
Oh I see said Bernard handing her a cushon well some people do he added kindly and so saying they rowed down the dark stream now flowing silently beneath a golden moon.


Photos: Not a lot this time around, it’s been too cold out to photograph things. Miké-chan enjoying the sun, the front half of a gorgeous Siamese (?) cat which came and chattered at us and looked annoyed when we didn’t respond by feeding it (when humans talk to each other they get fed, don’t they?), the afore-mentioned buri daikon, a bridge and river view, my standard train-station view at sunset (I’m often in this place on the platform and I just like the natural composition it makes), and the promised view of the girls’ night out.



Be safe and well.

Publications

Feb. 2nd, 2026 11:41 am
vivdunstan: Portion of a 1687 testament of ancestor James Greenfield in East Lothian (historical research)
[personal profile] vivdunstan
Updating my online academic publications list (and also offline CV), adding my book chapter in the latest Scottish History Society Miscellany volume. Rather marvelling that I am still publishing, as my neurological disease progresses. But still enjoying, and it helps me.

(no subject)

Feb. 2nd, 2026 09:29 am
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] beable and [personal profile] marydell!

(no subject)

Feb. 1st, 2026 04:37 pm
skygiants: Princess Tutu, facing darkness with a green light in the distance (Default)
[personal profile] skygiants
I finished Tasha Suri's The Isle in the Silver Sea yesterday and I am wrestling with profoundly conflicted feelings about it. It's an interesting book, it's an ambitious book; it's a book with a great deal to say, sometimes with a sledgehammer; it went in places I didn't expect, and appreciated, and also I think it maybe fails at the central task it needed to succeed at in order to make it actually work for me as a book.

The premise: we're on an island, and this island is composed of Stories About Britain. London is there, constantly caught between Victorian London and Elizabethan London and Merrie Olde England depending on what sort of narrative you're in. The Glorious Eternal Queen reigns forever with her giant ruffs and bright red hair. Each bit of the island is tied to a bit of story, and that story attaches itself to particular people, Incarnates, who are blessed/cursed to live out the narrative and keep the landscape alive with it. At this point this has been going on for so long that incarnates are usually identified pretty early and brought to live safely at the Queen's court where they kick their heels resignedly waiting for their fate to come upon them.

Sometimes immigrants come to the island. When they come, they forget their language and their own stories in the process. They are not supposed to get caught up in incarnation situations, though -- in theory, that's reserved for True Born Englishmen -- but unfortunately for our heroine Simran, she appears to be an exception and immediately upon sighting the shores of the isle as a child also started seeing the ghost of her past incarnation, indicating that she is the latest round of the tragic tale of the Witch and the Knight, who are doomed to fall in love and then die in a murder-suicide situation For The Realm.

Simran's knight is Vina, the mixed-race daughter of a wealthy noble, who is happy to be a hot and charming lesbian knight-at-arms but does not really want to be the murderous Knight any more than Simran wants to be the Witch. However, the plot begins, Simran is targeted by an Incarnation Murderer who kidnaps her best friend and challenges her to meet him on her Fated Mountain, and they of course have to go on a quest where they of course fall in love despite themselves and also learn more about why the current order must be overthrown because trying to preserve static, perfect versions of old stories is not only dooming a lot of people to extremely depressing fates but also slowly killing the Isle. This quest makes up the first part of the book.

I am very interested in the conversation that Tasha Suri is using this book to have about national narratives and national identities and the various stories, both old and new, that they attempt to simplify and erase. Her points, as I said, aren't subtle, but given Our Current Landscape there is a fair argument to be made that this is not the time for subtlety. I also think there's also some really good and sharp jokes and commentary about the National Narratives of Britain, specifically (evil ever-ruling Gloriana is SUCH a funny choice and the way this ends up being a mirror image for Arthuriana I think is quite fun as well).

On the other hand, the conversation is so big and the Themes so Thematic that they do end up entirely overshadowing the characters for me, which I do think is also a thematic failure. The first part of the book is about Vina and Simran's struggle to interact with each other and their lives as individuals, rather than the archetypes that overshadow them, but as Vina and Simran they also never quite felt like they transcended their own archetypes of Cranky Immigrant Witch and Charming Lesbian Knight With A Hero Complex. Which startled me, tbh, because I've liked several of Tasha Suri's previous books quite a lot and this hasn't struck me as a problem before. But I think here it's really highlighted for me by the struggle with Fate; I kept, perhaps unfairly, compare-contrasting with Princess Tutu, a work I love that's also about fighting with narrative archetypes, and how extremely specific Duck and Fakir and Rue feel as characters. I finished part one feeling like I still had no idea whether Vina and Simran had fallen in love as Fated Entities or as human beings distinct from their fate, and I think given the book this is it really needs to commit hard on that score one way or another.

Part two, I think, is much more interesting than part one, and changes up the status quo in unexpected ways. If I pretend that part one landed for me then I'm much happier to roll with the ride on part two, though there is an instance of Gay Found Family Syndrome that I found really funny; you can fix any concerning man with a sweet trans husband and a cottage and a baby! [personal profile] genarti will argue with me that she thinks it was more complicated than that, to which I will argue, I think it could have been more complicated IF part two had had room to breathe and lean into any of those complexities. Making part one half its length and part two double its length would I think fix several of my problems with the book. "but you just said that Vina and Simran don't feel specific enough" yes that's true AND they take three hundred pages to do it! I'd be less annoyed about them feeling kind of flat if we were moving on more quickly to other things ...

Anyway. I didn't find this book satisfying but I did find it interesting; others may find it to be both. Curious to talk about it with anyone else who's read it!

Sidenote: the Tales and Incarnations are maintained by archivists, who keep the island and the stories it contains static and weed out any narratives they think don't belong. This of course is evil. I went and complained about the evil archivist propaganda to [personal profile] genarti, who read this book first, and she said 'read further.' So I did! It turns out that in contrast to the evil archivists, the woods are populated by good and righteous librarians!! who secretly collect oral histories and discarded tales that have been deemed subversive by the archivists but which of course the island needs to thrive. I do appreciate that not all institutional memory workers are Evil in this book and I understand the need in fiction to have a clear and easy distinguishing term between your good guys and your bad guys, but Tasha Suri, may I politely protest that this is in fact also archivist work --

Sidenote two: v. interesting to me that of the two big high-profile recent Arthurianas I've read the thing I've found most interesting about both of them is their use of the Questing Beast. we simply love a beast!!

Culinary

Feb. 1st, 2026 06:30 pm
oursin: Frontispiece from C17th household manual (Accomplisht Lady)
[personal profile] oursin

This week's bread: Len Deighton's Mixed Wholemeal Loaf from The Sunday Times Book of Real Bread: 4:1:1 wholemeal flour/strong white flour/mix of wheatgerm and medium oatmeal, now that I have supply of these, splosh of sunflower oil, this turned out very nice indeed.

Friday night supper: penne with chopped red pepper fried in a little oil and then chopped pepperoni added, splashed with a little lemon-infused oil before serving.

Saturday breakfast rolls: brown grated apple, strong brown flour, Rayner's barley malt extract: perhaps a little on the stodgy side.

Today's lunch: pheasant breasts flattened a little and rubbed with juniper berries, coriander seed, 5-pepper blend and salt crushed together and left for a couple of hours, panfried in butter and olive oil, deglazed with madeira; intended to serve with kasha but kasha from new supplier did not respond well to cooking by absorption method; sweetstem cauliflower (partly purple) roasted in pumpkin seed oil with cumin seeds and splashed with lime and lemongrass balsamic vinegar, 'baby' (monster baby) leeks halved and healthy-grilled in olive oil, with an olive oil, white wine, and grainy mustard dressing.

(no subject)

Feb. 1st, 2026 12:53 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] hilarytamar!
vivdunstan: A vibrantly coloured comic cover image of Peter Capaldi's Doctor, viewed side on, facing to the left, looking thoughtful (twelfth doctor)
[personal profile] vivdunstan
Just finished rewatching this episode of Peter Capaldi's era (New Who series 8 episode 7). There will be spoilers in my discussion.

spoilers )

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nineveh_uk: Illustration that looks like Harriet Vane (Default)
nineveh_uk

February 2026

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