Anarchy, feminism, and a duke who collects china dogs! It's a great, great read. I loved every page, was fascinated by all the characters, and hated turning the last page because that meant that, though a satisfying read had been had, it was now over. Alas.

I'm talking about Laurie R. King's Touchstone. I'd waited awhile to read it (other obligations), but once I started there was no putting it down.

Set in mid-1920s England, it begins with Harris Stuyvesant, an American intelligence agent, searching for an anarchist agitator who has a penchant for bombs. The search leads him to an Englishman, and thence to England, but the authorities shuffle him aside, eventually handing him off (somewhat accidentally) to a Major Carstairs and his rather mysterious agenda. Major Carstairs introduces him to the touchstone, the sensitive Bennett Grey (a wonderfully complex, interesting character), and the story moves forward from there. Dense without being muddy, complex without being frustrating, this novel is thick with good writing and interesting ideas.

There's the deft social handler and seeming Red sympathizer Lady Laura, her friend (and Grey's sister) Sarah, the ever-so-smooth Mr. Bunsen, the creepy Major . . . all taking up some well-deserved space in my mind at the moment. The conversations they have, the issues raised, all with seemingly effortless twists and turns of dialogue and plot. There are surprises of character and action, but not unreasonable surprises. Not silly just-to-excite surprises. Surprises that are consistent with previous characterization. Great writing!

I'm becoming quite a fan of King's writing. Whether the Mary Russell series, or now with novels like Touchstone, hers are books I'll return to.

Adventures In Waterfalls II

Nail Factory Falls (#2 on our Falls Adventures via Guitard's Waterfalls of New Brunswick: A Guide) is on the Kingston Peninsula in southern New Brunswick. Both Mr. Inkslinger and I have family connections (recent and of an ancestral nature) on the Peninsula, so it was not an unfamiliar ferry ride and drive through gorgeous scenery. Truthfully, gorgeous scenery might be an understatement. Farms, woodland, a winding riverside drive. We spent a sundrenched Sunday afternoon driving, looking, hiking, and breathing in the crisp pine air and the fresh water from the falls.


The falls themselves were unbelievably lovely (considering how easy they were to find). A series of drops and skips that start right next to the road, Nail Brook Falls continues over increasingly harder to navigate terrain (well, if you're me it's harder to navigate).


Climbing down to some of the lower cascades was a tad tricky, but there was so much beauty! We disturbed a pudgy chickaree in the midst of hoarding, but as his mouth was full of pine cone we didn't have to suffer the usual scolding.


It was so quiet and peaceful, only the talkative waterfall penetrated the stillness once we were down in the ravine and away from the road.

Currently and Recently . . .

. . . listening to: Respighi, Ancient Airs and Dances, Suite 1

. . . finished reading: Keith Oatley's Therefore Choose. An interesting (if a tad too ambitious) story about a young Englishman who endures the complexities of love and friendship with two Germans during WWII. Also just finished Laurie Viera Rigler's Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict which was light, not altogether boring, but not quite as fun as the series Lost In Austen (which is along a similar theme of getting swallowed up in the world of Austen novels).

. . . watched: It's Complicated. And it is. Including my reaction. While I loved Baldwin's performance (and need one say Streep is brilliant?) and Steve Martin was wonderfully understated and pitch perfect, I was a bit let down by some character consistency in the writing as well as by the actors playing the two youngest children (they both needed to project far more complexity than they did). John Krasinski was consistently brilliant throughout (best moments in the film involved him). And I have to say I loved Jane's (Streep's character) house and bakery.

. . . reading: I am now fully engrossed in Eliot's Romola. It took a little while to get into this one, I admit, but now I am biting nails over poor Romola and her beautiful, but not altogether emotionally safe, Tito. I've also started in on Touchstone by Laurie R. King. I just couldn't bear it sitting there on the TBR shelf, waiting patiently to be lifted, opened and read. It was just too tempting. So far, I'm loving it. More to come on both these novels, I suspect.

. . . looking forward to: I've three novels from the library that are next on my reading list. Kingsolver's Poisonwood Bible, The Sweetness At the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley, and Bernhard Schlink's The Reader. Much reading pleasure ahead.

A few weeks ago, the lovely people at Goose Lane Editions sent a copy of Waterfalls of New Brunswick: A Guide by Nicholas Guitard in my direction. I was rather excited to look at the lovely photos (see the original Waterfalls of New Brunswick by Nicholas Guitard for even larger versions), but of course perusing the guidebook naturally led to the idea that (though I am only a very amateur hiker) Mr. Inkslinger and I should make it a project to see as many as we could of the reasonably accessible waterfalls mentioned. And that's what we've been doing. We're collecting waterfall experiences.

First, we went to Mooney Ridge Falls. Located between Fredericton and Saint John (though closer to Fredericton) on the old highway that has become the scenic route along the Saint John River, we found the quarry mentioned in the guidebook -- and behind which clatters the waterfall -- relatively easily. We proceeded to follow the biggest trail up past the quarry to a lovely little beaver pond. Industrious, those beavers. They'd created a large, placid pool with a very sturdy-looking dam.

The first day we attempted the falls was really only a scope-out-the-territory kind of day. We didn't have a great deal of time for hiking, etc., so decided to come back on the weekend (especially since my camera ceased to function once we got past the quarry . . . though the quarry is rather worth it all on its own).

On the return visit we trekked hither and yon (found a small, rather pretty waterfall not mentioned in the book) and finally arrived at Mooney Ridge Falls. As we arrived, a young bald eagle flew over the tops of the trees, and although the sun disappeared and sent spitting rain in its place, our afternoon at the falls was wonderful. There are the remains of an old stone building by the falls and we're going to go back and perhaps explore some more.

And a quick note on what we've found about using the guidebook (so far): while some of the basic directions can be a tad vague, Guitard does give quite a few valuable tidbits (including ratings of beauty and accessibility, though both are somewhat subjective of course, along with GPS coordinates to assist in locating whatever falls suits your fancy). I find his idea of 'easy' a little different from my own, but then I am a very amateur hiker.

Wherein Inkslinger Reveals Secrets

Or, rather, wherein Inkslinger simply reveals, in the absence of any secrets or interesting tidbits, ten (probably) mundane things about Inkslinger.

I have been given the task of relating ten things about myself by wonderful, writerly Grad at The Curious Reader. She kindly awarded me the Beautiful Blogger Award and the Honest Scrap Award. Following the revelation of these ten things, I am to pass on the honours to ten worthy bloggers (should they be so inclined as to accept, that is).

So, pull up a cozy chair for snoozing when it gets too dull, and here goes . . .

Thing #1: I was, for a good chunk of my young(ish) life, a dedicated, idealistic teacher. Then I discovered that idealism was much better suited for fiction . . . so, onto #2 . . .

Thing #2: I am a full-time writer. Or, if you prefer, a full-time reader who returns the favour on a part-time basis (however inadequate that return might turn out to be).

Thing #3: I have a spaceship-shaped scar from an 80s-era video game on my arm. It brings back memories of sleepovers and pillow fights with my childhood friend (it was during a pillow fight that I fell and hit my arm on a nightlight, thereby procuring said scar).

Thing #4: On occasion, my all-consuming desire to avoid even the appearance of pretension makes me sound like and appear to be a complete numbskull (and/or terribly pretentious). How ironic is that? :) This is similar to my desire to appear open-minded which can give people the idea that I have no convictions/beliefs of my own (which is far from the case).

Thing #5: I've read the Chronicles of Narnia around/about thirty times. But I'm not even sure they'd make a top twenty best-written list. In the end, I find, it doesn't really matter.

Thing #6: I have a tendency to like all people I encounter until that proves to be a bad idea on an individual basis.

Thing #7: My cat is named after the female pharaoh Hatshepsut. And she behaves accordingly. Which is one of the things I love about her.

Thing #8: Mr. Inkslinger's first anniversary gift to me was a signed copy of Richard Hugo's poems. I don't know how he comes up with such perfect presents. (I guess #8 was more of an interesting thing about Mr. Inkslinger).

Thing #9: My grandmother danced with Walter Pidgeon . . . when that meant something.

Thing #10: I don't have ten interesting things to relate (I'm not even sure I had nine).

Some worthy bloggers who may feel free to consider themselves awarded:

All those I link to (see list of Poety/Prosey/Inspiring types at left) are worthy of the aforementioned awards. I could say especially Janet at JCB, Linda at Each Little World, Thomas at My Porch, to name but the first three that spring to mind as combining things visually arresting with words worth reading. But also Stefanie at So Many Books and Sylvia at Classical Bookworm and Gubbinal and Juxtabook and Desideratum and Tea Leaves . . . . and . . . and . . . (you get the idea).

Reading, reading, reading. In between gardening in the rain and trekking to waterfalls (more on this to come), I finished a few interesting novels last week.

Novel #1: White Teeth by Zadie Smith was a good read, overall. What threatened to be a ho-hum post-colonial tale was, thankfully, so much more. Smith's characters were well-wrought and the humour was a welcome treat.

The story follows Archie and Samad, their wives Clara and Alsana, their children (Archie's Irie and Samad's twins Millat and Magid), and the family their children become involved with (the Chalfens with their science-specific/happy family approach to life).

The silliness of humans, the absurdity behind the pride, was more than evident and yet the characters were, by and large, sympathetically rendered, even endearing. The narrative has an epic feel to it, but it's not laboured. There's an early WWII mistake that has an odd effect on subsequent generations, a diseased experimental mouse, a couple of quasi-violent fundamentalist movements, and a few Jehovah's Witnesses peppered throughout. It might be a bit of a cliche to say it was a funny, moving book . . . but it was. This is one of those highly acclaimed reads that is actually worth reading.

I'd heard an interview with Smith about a month ago, was intrigued by what she had to say about the writing process and her reading habits, and decided to give one of her novels a try. I'm so glad I did.

Novel #2: L (and things come apart) by Ian Orti was also an enjoyable read. Fragmented realities, fragile personalities, time and the past uprooting themselves, love and habit and horror. One never really knows what is going on, but there's charm in the telling. This short novel centres around Henry's cafe and its unusual owner and customers. Henry's life begins to take some strange turns and it ends up being a rather diverting read.

Novel #3: George Fetherling's fascinating new novel Walt Whitman's Secret. But this one deserves a post all to itself. So, to be continued . . .

I was hooked, and right from the start. Beginning with the image of a lone figure among the bleached bones of fallen warriors, Guy Gavriel Kay's Under Heaven* wends its way into one's imagination almost effortlessly. Shen Tai, the aforementioned lone figure, honouring his father's memory, observing the obligatory two year mourning period by removing himself to a remote Kitai outpost, spends his days burying the fallen of both the Kitan and Taguran armies. All while spending his nights listening to the cries and wails of their ghosts. What a great way to introduce a character, and the China-inspired country of Kitai.

As the story progresses, one discovers all sorts of things about Tai, his family (specifically his sister and brother), and the depth and complexity of political intrigue at the powerful Kitai court. But there is fragility behind the power and unrest in the apparent devotion of the emperor's subjects for the emperor and empire. Tai becomes a lightning rod for that fragility and unrest when he is unexpectedly given a herd of 250 horses. Horses that people would kill for. Tai is now precariously powerful himself and what follows is a test of his intelligence and character, and it makes for great reading.

Gavriel Kay's writing style lends itself to the complete immersion of the reader. Just a lovely reading experience. And I like the approach he takes to historical fiction, creating an alternate China, alternate characters, not messing about with historical characters but coming up with his own unique variations. The descriptions and names (Purple Myrtle Court!), too, are stellar. Loved this book! Can't recommend it enough and I'm looking forward to trying more Guy Gavriel Kay novels (Ysabel is waiting patiently on my TBR shelf as I type).

* Many thanks to Penguin (Canada) for the review copy!!!

Sunny skies and slight breezes make for such lovely gardening afternoons. Mr. Inkslinger and I have been busy with the neglected garden and I've not had time to get to my Under Heaven review . . . or to tell you about the adventures in waterfall hunting we've had this week. But the maple trees and sun beckon -- the former seem to be in a race with the daylilies -- and I'm heading back to the garden (after a trip to town where last-minute necessaries await for Mr. Inkslinger's birthday).

Project Garden Reclamation

Mr. Inkslinger and I have been trying to restore my late mother's garden to its previous loveliness. Which isn't easy (how that talented woman managed to keep it all going by herself just boggles the mind), I have to admit. Loving plants, trees, gardens, et al, but not having 'green thumbs' by any stretch of the imagination (and, boy, have we been trying to stretch our collective imagination), it's been an off and on venture in terms of success. But this year we are determined to get those overrun beds in hand, successfully eradicate those pesky weeds, and prune those errant limbs.

Newly inspired (though a tad overwhelmed) by our recent read of The Elements of Organic Gardening, we were ready to head into the trenches once again. Today, with the invigorating breeze and peek-a-boo sun, we started putting our research to the test. We'll see how it goes.

We also managed to fit in a viewing of a great film. We watched Pirate Radio. Funny, with a strong soundtrack and excellent acting!

Spring On The Gargoyles

On another Uptown walkabout . . . Spring sunshine and capital ornamentation:

Currently and Recently . . .

. . . Listening To: Mahler, Symphony No 5 -- Adagietto

. . . Watched: Kurosawa's Yojimbo and The Bad Sleep Well. Thanks to Mr. Inkslinger, my exposure to Akira Kurosawa is expanding. The former, a take on the film genre I'm generally least interested in (westerns) was so much fun (great soundtrack, too). Amusing in places, very tense in others, enjoyable. Not least because of the brilliant performance of Toshiro Mifune who also stars in The Bad Sleep Well. And I can't say enough good things about the latter. My obsession with all things Hamlet should make my interest in The Bad Sleep Well either apparent or puzzling (depending on what you already think of the film), but suffice it to say I was blown away by the cinematography, acting, and story. There have been much more articulate things said about Kurosawa's films elsewhere so I won't profane the conversation by adding my ignorant blatherings. But I am developing into quite a Kurosawa fan.

. . . Read: Two more collections of Fetherling poetry. These two are earlier works. Wonderful, wonderful poems to be had in Achilles' Navel: Throbs, Laments and Vagaries (1974) and Madagascar: Poems and Translations (1999). I like the aphoristic tendencies in his poetry, as well as the unusual imagery (disparate images coupled to create entirely new ideas). As I'm making my way through the Fetherling oeuvre, I can't help but be repeatedly impressed by the depth and range.

And I've just finished Guy Gavriel Kay's Under Heaven (more on this to come) and absolutely loved it. So much so that I went right out and purchased another Kay novel, Ysabel.

. . . Looking Forward To: evening sunshine and garden planning.


Below, the great opening to Yojimbo:

I seem to be unintentionally reading books in loose thematic pairs lately. Fresh from my enthusiastic foray into China with Dai Sijie's Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, I've embarked on an 8th-century-China-inspired novel by Guy Gavriel Kay, Under Heaven. I'd not read any of his novels before this and, having nearly reached the halfway point of what has proved a very diverting read indeed, I can't think why I haven't.

The main protagonist, Shen Tai, has been keeping company with the dead for almost two years, burying the slain of two countries. For his service he is rewarded handsomely (dangerously so), and his life changes, almost immediately, in surprising ways. Makes for a good starting point, no? And Shen Tai is a great character to follow around a suspenseful narrative, too. There are assassins, the whiff of the supernatural, the machinations of an empire at odds with an individual . . . everything a good novel needs.

I don't normally read newspaper reviews of books and novels (I prefer to get my book recommendations from friends/fellow bloggers/the endless lists of literary classic must-reads), but this one in the Globe and Mail caught my eye . . . especially the last paragraph. Yay for someone pointing out one of the fatal flaws in our present lit environment.

At any rate, I'm loving every twist and turn in Gavriel Kay's wonderfully written novel and am looking forward to reading more of his work when I finish this one. To that end, off I go to do some more reading over lunch!!

Hurrying about on errands doesn't mean one can't stop and take a few snaps on a grey day. And the ocean and the mist combined for some loveliness.


Not still pools, no, but a stormy day on the Bay makes for good poetry. Good days for writing poetry, good days for reading poetry.


My sporadic reading of Emily Bronte's poems brought me to these simple lines of hers (a bit of gloom on a gloomish day, it's true, but one can't beat Emily Bronte for beautiful gloom):

Heavy hangs the raindrop
From the burdened spray;
Heavy broods the damp mist
On uplands far away;

Heavy looms the dull sky,
Heavy rolls the sea --
And heavy beats the young heart
Beneath that lonely tree.

"we're not headlines we don't need verbs / to validate ourselves."

From haiku to prose poem, from complex syntax and use of line breaks in "PDFs" to the spare, beautiful lines of "Italic Rain", The Silvia Hotel Poems by George Fetherling kind of seeps in and settles. Humour shows up . . . and the obvious appreciation for the suitable word to fit an idea or image.


These are sophisticated poems in terms of ideas and execution. In tone, a dry wit and world-weariness bumps heads with passion, sadness, beauty. There are fresh insights about love, the interaction between one human and another. Intimacy in its various forms.

I particularly liked "I Once Saw The Master's Scroll" for its tone and choice lines like "People like us never go forward / except when eluding capture." But I could say something similar about almost all of the poems in this new collection of George Fetherling's. There are truly thought-provoking ideas to be had in these poems (and that is not to be underrated in this trend-obsessed world of the cheap buck and the pretentious word). But these poems offer moments when you need to set the book aside, and just absorb.

"Poems should be wisdom or be love" says the speaker in "Confusion Of Themes Not Of Motives." These poems are filled with both.