I received an invite from Bittersweet.
‘The worst of it was that he couldn’t keep to the position in which he had started, under the white rock. A man who is fighting a dozen enemies at once must take his chances wherever he can; must dart in wherever he sees an enemy’s breast or neck unguarded. In a very few strokes this may get you quite a distance from the spot where you began.’
- Sentences 6, 7 and 8 from page 123 of young Alex’s copy of C. S. Lewis’, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Last Battle, published by HarperCollins (ISBN: 0-00-775498-1).
A meme, you see.
The Rules being:-
I Grab the nearest book
II Turn to p123
III Locate the fifth sentence
IV Post the next three sentences – presumably sentences 6, 7 and 8 – to your blog
V Tag 5 others (say, all semi-regular readers here)
I’m fine as far as parts I-IV go, but as with my great reluctances towards seeking sponsorship funds from even the nearest and dearest, drinking alcohol ‘to be sociable’, and spreading venereal diseases, I’d rather not tag anyone. Instead, I’ll say ‘If you want to play, then do so and let me know so’. I would be glad to read any of my occasional droppers-in’s responses to this.
There, I played along nicely. Now can I have a biscuit?
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8 comments:
'The Last Battle' was the most upsetting book I'd ever read when I first read it. I didn't buy the cop-out 'they all died, but then they all lived happily ever after in the afterlife' ending.
(The previous most upset I'd been was Aslan dying in TLTW&TW.)
Luckily, it was quite some time before the penny dropped and I realised it was all about Jesus & that.
(I didn't need to put "contains spoilers" at the start of the comment did I?)
I grabbed the nearest book. It was my filofax. I turned to page 123: week beginning 8th October 2007 (yes, I still have last year's diary pages in there). It was a quiet week; there only were five entries, leaving nothing for me to share. So I don't think I'll reproduce this on my blog if that's all right with you.
Yes, you can have a biscuit, as long as I don't have to join in with that too (I don't like eating biscuits 'to be sociable').
PS: the most upsetting book I'd ever read when I first read it was 'The Box Of Delights' by John Masefield. That, too, had a terrible ending (warning, this sentence contains spoilers): 'he woke up and it was all a dream'. Noooooooo!!! My eight-year-old self knew that was very, very wrong.
Thank you for playing. I am so looking forward to rereading all the Narnia/Swallows & Amazons with my boys; we are working our way through the 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' stage still.
I appreciate your comment about infantilization of households, yet where i (sometimes) choose to sit to type (at the long family table) the nearest books are invariably a mixture of tastes, which is rather heartwarming ... a family that reads together ... ?
*passing plate of muffins*
I did this about a month or so ago. It was pretty funny, too, not fulla death like your little piece.
Bless you for not tagging specifically.
"Yes." Trout supposed that Billy had some complaint about the way his newspapers were delivered. He did not think of himself as a writer for the simple reason that the world had never allowed himself to think of himself in this way.
I shan't name the book. Makes it more fun.
Beth - 'Jesus and that?' What the...
Z - Oh lordy, by age 8 me and the rowdies at Northern Junior realised that 'It was only a dream' endings was just so passe.
BNS - Ah, warm muffins! Marvellous.
O - You have admirers to please.
Pi - Well, yes, bless me indeed.
H - Too easy, impossibly easy - The Alistair Campbell Diaries. Must try harder.
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