Thinking about ice, ice palaces, and wit
Oct. 1st, 2002 10:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrNo time to actually write today, as I had to deal with some HP Education Fanon stuff tonight. But I think I may be close to attempting the first scene in the book, where Solveig almost drowns, falling through the ice while ice skating.
To prepare myself, I have been thinking about ice today, mostly about how it can be used as a symbol. I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's short story "The Ice Palace" yesterday. In it, he uses the St. Paul Winter Carnival ice palace as a symbol of northern (Yankee, as opposed to Southern) coldness, remoteness, distancing. In the story, a Southern girl engaged to a Minnesota man breaks off the engagement after she comes North to meet his family and is chilled by his manner; she gets lost in the Ice Palace and almost freezes.
Then I thought of Robert Silverberg's story "Hot Sky," where a giant iceberg symbolized the earth's natural resources that were--literally--melting away in the face of global warming. The ice represent what people squabble over, disappearing even as they fight, just as the iceberg scavengers squabble over control of the iceberg. I was pleased to note that I had remembered the last line of the story word-by-word, even though it's been about ten years since I read it ("No sense looking back. You look back, all you do is hurt your eyes.")
What would the ice represent in this book--besides magic, of course? Don't mean to come up with an easy answer here, but I'm content to discover this in the course of the writing.
Re-reading Sorcery and Cecelia by Wrede and Stevermer (a natural progression from Stevermer's River Rats). No matter how many times I read it, I find this book laugh-out-loud funny (alas for those of you who have not yet had the chance to read it, it's out of print and quite rare). The odious Marquis isn't exactly, well a smart-ass (he certainly would not appreciate that description) but I do appreciate his occasional wit--that was Caroline's doing, as she wrote the bits in London. It made me think about Jack, and trying to capture a sense of wit in dialogue, which roused a little bubble of dread about my capabilities. I have often wished I had the gift of wit, of being able to come up with, at an instant's notice, a good verbal riposte. My sister Cindy and my brother Chet definitely have that gift. (Of course, as a writer writing dialogue, I don't have to come up with witty replies at an instant's notice--it's okay if I take several weeks to come up with a stinging way for Jack to confound Solveig.)
That being said, feel free to chime in with some of your favorite examples of books with male lead characters with fascinating, sometimes devastating wit. Shakespeare's Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing. Georgette Heyer created a whole slew of 'em. Cassie Claire's (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
epicyclical) Draco. The characters in alexmalfoy's "Snitch!" Emma Bull's phouka in War for the Oaks. Some of the Spencer/Tracy movies.
Your favorite wickedly witty smart-asses?
Cheers,
Peg
To prepare myself, I have been thinking about ice today, mostly about how it can be used as a symbol. I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's short story "The Ice Palace" yesterday. In it, he uses the St. Paul Winter Carnival ice palace as a symbol of northern (Yankee, as opposed to Southern) coldness, remoteness, distancing. In the story, a Southern girl engaged to a Minnesota man breaks off the engagement after she comes North to meet his family and is chilled by his manner; she gets lost in the Ice Palace and almost freezes.
Then I thought of Robert Silverberg's story "Hot Sky," where a giant iceberg symbolized the earth's natural resources that were--literally--melting away in the face of global warming. The ice represent what people squabble over, disappearing even as they fight, just as the iceberg scavengers squabble over control of the iceberg. I was pleased to note that I had remembered the last line of the story word-by-word, even though it's been about ten years since I read it ("No sense looking back. You look back, all you do is hurt your eyes.")
What would the ice represent in this book--besides magic, of course? Don't mean to come up with an easy answer here, but I'm content to discover this in the course of the writing.
Re-reading Sorcery and Cecelia by Wrede and Stevermer (a natural progression from Stevermer's River Rats). No matter how many times I read it, I find this book laugh-out-loud funny (alas for those of you who have not yet had the chance to read it, it's out of print and quite rare). The odious Marquis isn't exactly, well a smart-ass (he certainly would not appreciate that description) but I do appreciate his occasional wit--that was Caroline's doing, as she wrote the bits in London. It made me think about Jack, and trying to capture a sense of wit in dialogue, which roused a little bubble of dread about my capabilities. I have often wished I had the gift of wit, of being able to come up with, at an instant's notice, a good verbal riposte. My sister Cindy and my brother Chet definitely have that gift. (Of course, as a writer writing dialogue, I don't have to come up with witty replies at an instant's notice--it's okay if I take several weeks to come up with a stinging way for Jack to confound Solveig.)
That being said, feel free to chime in with some of your favorite examples of books with male lead characters with fascinating, sometimes devastating wit. Shakespeare's Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing. Georgette Heyer created a whole slew of 'em. Cassie Claire's (
epicyclical) Draco. The characters in alexmalfoy's "Snitch!" Emma Bull's phouka in War for the Oaks. Some of the Spencer/Tracy movies. Your favorite wickedly witty smart-asses?
Cheers,
Peg
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-01 08:37 pm (UTC)- Darice
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-01 11:48 pm (UTC)also, more classically, the fellow who painted Dorian Gray's portrait. Can't think of his name at the moment.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-01 11:53 pm (UTC)However if we're talking all time favorite smart-ass, that would be Han Solo(movies and books)hands down.
~Kristin
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-02 07:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-02 09:50 am (UTC)When I think of ice - especially after your capture of the story plot above - I think of things that pass and my inability to keep them. Like time, tide, happiness, the past, childhood, ...
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-02 12:07 pm (UTC)Otherwise, aside from various versions of fanon!Draco, I'm drawing a blank on male smartasses. I'm sure I'm familiar with some, but I just can't think right now.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-04 12:08 am (UTC)*laughs* Slippery Jim DiGriz from the Stainless Steel Rat. Lord Corwin of Amber from the Amber books. "Of all my relations, I like sex the best and Eric the least." Julian Sorel? Although he was French and whingy. Lord Henry from Dorian Gray; Lord Peter Wimsey, as noted. Robert Parker's Spenser. Joss's Spike, of course.
I love Sorcery and Cecilia, although my copy is long since gone, but of course I get my LJ name from it. And Robert Silverberg also rocks my socks -- Dying Inside actually made me cry, which is unusual.
*is chuffed to have her Draco mentioned in such esteemed company*
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-04 12:26 am (UTC)However, after grumbling while Cassie t00bed about looking up snazzy books, I have managed to come up with a list. It sucks, but I do hope you'll overlook that. :) In no particular order:
1) Huck Finn.
2) David Copperfield.
3) Henry Crawford (from Mansfield Park, for the uninitiated)
4) Ivan Denisovitch. I realise this is a stretch, but the grim, wry humor of some of his commentary is, I believe, absolutely fascinating, if not a devastating, sparkling kind of wit.
5) No one said we couldn't say plays, so I am saying Cinderella's prince from Into the Woods.
Dammit, I know I should be able to come up with more than that. Ah, well. Tis late. But you have given me something to ponder over for the rest of the week. *grins*