Pratchett’s world is wonderful because he has the sheer energy of the great storyteller: you think you know all it is possible to know about a dragon, or a policeman, or a plot or a landscape, and he tells you more, a lot more than you had any right to expect, and this is exhilarating.
from A.S. Byatt’s Foreword to Terry Pratchett’s “A Blink of the Screen”
She didn’t like to be talked about. Equally, she didn’t like not to be talked about, when the high-minded chatter rushed on as though she was not there. There was no pleasing her, in fact. She had the grace, even at eleven, to know there was no pleasing her. She thought a lot, analytically, about other people’s feelings, and had only just begun to realize that this was not usual, and not reciprocated.
Read these as part of a really amazing class on fairy tales and narratology. We also watched The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Pan’s Labyrinth, Mirrormask, Edward Scissorhands, Beauty and the Beast (Cocteau), Howl’s Moving Castle, and Tarsem Singh’s The Fall (which is now one of my favorite movies. !!!). The Classic Fairy Tales anthology is the Norton Critical Edition by Maria Tatar, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in beginning a study in the field.
[Loki] was beautiful, that was always affirmed, but his beauty was hard to fix or to see, for he was always glimmering, flickering, melting, mixing, he was the shape of a shapeless flame, he was the eddying thread of needle-shapes in the shapeless mass of the waterfall.
Ragnarok: The End of the Gods by A. S. Byatt [p43]
They took to silence. They touched each other without comment and without progression. A hand on a hand, a clothed arm, resting on an arm. An ankle overlapping an ankle, as they sat on a beach, and not removed. One night they fell asleep, side by side…He slept curled against her back, a dark comma against her pale elegant phrase.
There was something strange about these shining and shadowy drivers and riders. Both sun and moon were hotly pursued by wolves, with open jaws, snapping at their heels, loping across emptiness. The story did not mention any creation of wolves; they simply appeared, snarling and dark. They were a part of the rhythm of things. They never rested or tired. The created world was inside the skull, and the wolves of the mind were there from the outset of the heavenly procession.