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Really, more of Book Received. One work new to me, science fantasy.

Books Received, September 13 — September 19

Poll #33640 Books Received, September 13 — September 19
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 9


Which of these look interesting?

View Answers

Yalum by Matthew Hughes (September 2025)
1 (11.1%)

Some other option (see comments)
0 (0.0%)

Cats!
9 (100.0%)

Friday Afternoon, Capclave

Sep. 20th, 2025 09:17 am
lydamorehouse: (Default)
[personal profile] lydamorehouse
When last we left our intrepid heroines, Naomi and were off to see what fun Japanese shops we could shop. The only place that was open when we set out (around 10 am) was Maruichi, a grocery store, 1.1 miles from the hotel. It was probably the most fun we had shopping. I tried Boss Coffee Black hot, not out of a vending machine (as it proper) but, even so, it was quite good. I liked this place because I could listen to customers and shop workers speaking a language I’m trying to learn.

I think I’ve talked about this already but I’m at the halfway point in the 13th Warrior language acquisition montage with Japanese. I will embed the video I’m referencing below, so you know what I mean. But, the point in the scene where Antonio can pick out about ten words out of a hundred? That’s me right now.





In the same mall was a kielbasa shop which was filled with other fun Polish goods and goodies. We spent a decent amount of time just window shopping (and gift buying) at these two places.

The other Japanese shops, however, weren’t open for another hour or more and so Naomi and I wandered back down the Rockville Pike checking out all the other little places along the way. We found a fun little tea shop run by an Indian couple who were very charming. Since Mason never reads my blog, I can tell you that I picked up a couple of really nice gifts for him (as my son has turned into a bit of a loose tea connoisseur,) including a cute tea ball where the counterweight is a book reading cat.

Surprisingly, the Tesco (the departo) was a bit of a bust for me. Naomi’s guest liaison had hyped up this store’s stationary section and so I’d gotten my hopes up. Alas, what they called stationary was actually just a packet of lined paper. Not even with a cute bit of art at the top. Very strange. Very disappointing. Tesco, however, had an absolutely mind-boggling number of Lay’s chip flavors and Kit-Kats, etc. It was interesting, thinking back on the Reddit thread comments, that the only language besides English that I heard spoken there seemed to be Mandarin. (I can not say for sure, but it certainly wasn’t Japanese.)

Naomi then took me out for my very first ever conveyor belt sushi. What fun!

conveyor belt sushi
Image: the conveyor belt with sushi

I was brave and tried raw squid (not sure I’ll be doing that again!), but otherwise we ate far too much. This place also had robot servers--two different types, a little train that brought small snacks, and an actual robot that brought bigger appetizers and then complained that it had to get back to work. I found it very charming.

train-like robot
Image: the little train-like robot that delivered small snacks. I failed to get a picture of the larger robot.

Then we came back to the hotel room long enough to take a quick break and rest our feet.

I will admit that at this point I “snoozled.” Snoozling is what my family calls those kinds of half-naps where you’re easily wakeable for a chat, but also just as likely to drift into the zone where you might start snoring. You know, snoozling.
From there we went to registration to begin the con. Program participants all got individualized schedules printed on the back--and I was reminded that this was something I wanted to be able to do for our Gaylaxicon folks. This means, I’ll be doing them? But it’s really SO NICE. It feels like a perk to the programming participant, you know?

Naomi had a panel right away at 4 pm called “Morally Grey Characters” which I sat and listened to. Zack Be was the moderator and he did an excellent job, actually. He’s apparently a psychologist by trade and you could kind of tell from the way he talked to some of the folks who asked questions at the end--like he was able to coax out the shy ones, and firmly, but respectfully shut down the rambling ones. I will admit that I wasn’t super riveted by the topic. I am a fan of morally grey characters, but the panel ended up focusing more on how to write them than recommendations on where to find them. I wanted the latter.

Then I was on an absolutely banger of a panel on SF and Romance. The other folks on the panel were fantastic:JL Gribble, Morgan Hazelwood, Sherin Nicole and Andrija Popovic. The conversation was dynamic and informative and I had a tremendous time.

Even cooler, I was wandering towards the con suite thinking I might scrounge up dinner there when JL Gribble invited me out to dinner. I hung out with them and one of their writer friends and had one of those fun con experiences where you go out to a meal with someone you barely know and have a fantastic conversation. At the same time Naomi was off being interviewed in a very similar vein by Scott Edelman for “Eating the Fantastic,” (https://www.scottedelman.com/wordpress/tag/eating-the-fantastic/) which basically hopes to recreate that magical con experience. So, that was kind of a cool coincidence!

Naomi and I met up again at her reading, whereafter I turned into a pumpkin.

There is something that is happening to me now that I am older where I just don’t want to talk to people after 9 pm. I don’t know what that’s about. I still consider myself an extrovert, but I am starting to experience the uniquely introverted experience of being “peopled out.” I’d had my fill of strangers. Time for bed.

I was up this morning early enough to discover that the Starbucks in the hotel has a broken espresso machine. So, I ended up across the street for our lattes again. Today is my busiest day, so I'll have a lot to report tomorrow.

(no subject)

Sep. 20th, 2025 12:28 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] sharpiefan!
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Posted by Sara Stamey

As Autumn hints at coming winter, why not escape with Thor and me as we wistfully revisit some of our favorite beaches on fabulous Rhodos?

NOTE: Due to too much “life” lately, Thor and I haven’t been able for a few years to make one of our wonderful fall trips to the fabulous Greek islands. So here’s a taste of sunshine and crystal-clear, purple-blue seas from 2019, when we went ferry-hopping between favorite islands. Dive in for a last taste of summer! (This post is a rerun.)

This was our third trip to the big island of Rhodes in the Dodecanese near Turkey, and it was Thor’s turn to escape museums in favor of beaches. (For coverage of wonderful Medieval Rhodes Town and Classical Lindos, check out my blog posts from the previous two years.) And, since this trip was partly physical therapy for both of us — seriously, doctors urging us to spend more time swimming in warm climes! — we were happy to comply. The lure of that magical blue Aegean Sea is not to be resisted.

Like Peter Mitchell in my Greek islands novel THE ARIADNE CONNECTION, I’m drawn ever deeper:

He kicked hard, straight down into hushed shadow. The water split and reformed around him as he arrowed into it, sharp-edged as flowing crystal. It was bare underneath, too, rock outlined precise below him, not much in the way of fish or plants. Here and there a sparse weed curtsied in the swell, fingerlings scattering in a silver spurt of alarm. But the water: incredible clear blue like swimming in air, and the pure salt cool of it you could almost see forever stay forever, siren voices calling him deeper….

So, eager to explore a new location on the south side of the island, Stegna Beach, we set out in our rental car for another of those steep, hair-raising drives down a rocky cliffside to the small cove.

Naturally, we encountered goats browsing along the roadside.

I’m posting my complete blog entries on my own author website at www.sarastamey.com, where you can finish this episode and enjoy all the accompanying photos. Please continue reading by clicking on the link below, then you can return here (use “go back” arrow above) to comment, ask questions, or join a conversation. We love your responses!

https://sarastamey.com/the-rambling-writers-greek-islands-2019-part-1-rhodes-beaches/

*****

You will find The Rambling Writer’s blog posts here every Saturday. Sara’s Greek islands novel  from Book View Café is available in print and ebook: The Ariadne Connection. “Technology triggers a deadly new plague. Can a healer find the cure?”  The novel has received the Chanticleer Global Thriller Grand Prize and the Cygnus Award for Speculative Fiction. Sara is at work on the sequel, The Ariadne Disconnect. Sign up for her quarterly email newsletter at www.sarastamey.com

The Ariadne Connection by Sara Stamey

 

 

The Big Idea: William Alexander

Sep. 19th, 2025 09:28 pm
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Posted by Athena Scalzi

You don’t have to fully understand something to enjoy or get value out of it. New York Times bestselling author William Alexander expands this idea to life itself in the Big Idea for his newest novel, Sunward. Read on to see how the world, though sometimes scary and incomprehensible, can also be pretty amazing.

WILLIAM ALEXANDER:

Sunward is space opera about parenting—specifically about parenting robotic kids, and more broadly about parenting kids who are wildly, gloriously, transformatively different from ourselves. 

It started as a short story that I wrote for Sunday Morning Transport, when pandemic parenting was much on my mind. My own kids were stuck at home, quarantined from the world but still trying to learn about it via disembodied classrooms. Their experience of grade school was simultaneously contracting and expanding in ways that I had no frame of reference for—except maybe in science fiction. Home was a spacecraft, isolated in the void. We lived in cramped quarters, bouncing off the walls and staring out the windows, but at least we could communicate instantaneously with every other ship and station. 

This mix of coziness, claustrophobia, catastrophe, and possibility messed with my head. I tried to squeeze the whole mess into a short story. Then the story grew into a novel—albeit a short one—about parenting juvenile bots in a turbulent solar system. 

Science fiction has lots of robotic kids. Some inhabit Pinocchio retellings, others Peter Pan retellings. Some are changelings, embodying old fears alongside newer uncanny valleys. Samuel Butler panicked about mechanical offspring in his 1863 essay “Darwin Among the Machines” (which also predicts eventual war between the machines and humanity). Osamu Tezuka’s beloved Astro Boy broke ground for so much of our science fictional landscape; his 1962 story “Robot Land” includes a robotic uprising set in an amusement park, published eleven years before the movie Westworld

Ted Chiang’s The Lifecycle of Software Objects (which you can find in his second collection Exhalation) critiques the impossible shortcuts that we almost always take in our stories about mechanical people. “Science fiction is filled with artificial beings who, like Athena out of the head of Zeus, spring forth fully formed,” he says in the story notes, “but I don’t believe consciousness actually works that way.” The digients of his novella are infants raised up by the constant attention of caring adults. Intelligent life needs to be nurtured. It takes time. There are no shortcuts. 

As adults we become increasingly skilled at pretending—to ourselves, and to everyone else—that we stand on certainties. Kids know better. They are much more accustomed to moving through worlds that they don’t understand, and don’t yet expect to. They find ways to navigate incomprehension. 

Science fiction can help us remember how to do the same—not necessarily in its literal predictions of the future, or in its warnings and cautionary tales, but in the way SF fosters an intuitive sense that all of this… <flails at the world like an unhappy muppet> …could be wildly, gloriously, transformatively different. 


Sunward: Amazon|Barnes & Noble|Books-A-Million|Bookshop

Author socials: Website|Bluesky

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Posted by John Scalzi

Today’s view not only has a parking lot, but also a freeway onramp! This makes it a high-quality view from a hotel window!

(The room and hotel are pretty nice, just to be clear. Tor does not put me up in murder hotels.)

Tonight: I’m at Mysterious Galaxy in San Diego, 7pm! Be there or be somewhere else, I guess.

Tomorrow: I go all the way to Boise, Idaho, for an event at the Boise Public library (Hillcrest Branch), co-sponsored by Rediscovered Books. Also at 7pm! The event is free but please register at the link so they know you’re coming.

— JS

Oddnesses of life

Sep. 19th, 2025 07:35 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin

That thing happened this week whereby a couple of weeks ago I was looking everywhere for a book I knew I had somewhere (unless maybe I'd lent to somebody sometime and they'd never returned it, it being the biography of an NZ-born sex reformer published by Penguin NZ: and currently available according to bookfinder.com, 2nd hand, from NZ, at PRICES, not to mention, how long would that take?).

And then I was looking for Other Book entirely, in fact just vaguely casting my eye over shelf adjacent to where I was looking for that, and there was That Book, stuck between two other books and way out of any kind of order.

We are not sure that is not, in fact, entirely typical of its subject....

***

I was taking my customary constitutional at lunchtime today, and walking across the grass among the trees, under which there was a certain amount of debris of fallen leaves and twigs (these were not the horse chestnuts that were madly casting conkers on the ground), caught my foot and stumbled slightly, and somebody said, 'Be careful!'

I went off muttering that there is not a lot of point in issuing warnings to be careful after the event, but people do tend to do that, don't they, sigh.

***

I am not sure this is an oddness, but normally, by the time a conference at which I am supposed to be keynoting is only just over a week away, participants will have had at least a draft version of the programme, indicating time the thing is starting, slot they are speaking in, etc.

(I also had to do a certain amount of nudging to discover how long I was expected to Go On for.)

Book titles for the win

Sep. 19th, 2025 10:52 am
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[personal profile] brithistorian

I was reading the current issue of American Historical Review this morning and in the reviews, I came across a very clever book title. In a play on the phrase "locus of power," Samuel Dolbee named a book Locusts of Power: Borders, Empire, and Environment in the Modern Middle East.

Bad News From Alpha Centauri A…

Sep. 19th, 2025 10:21 am
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[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


There's a planet in the habitable zone... but not an Earthlike planet.

Bad News From Alpha Centauri A…

Sabrena Swept Away by Karuna Riazi

Sep. 19th, 2025 10:14 am
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[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


Sabrena's life is full of struggles already. The last thing she needs is an other-worldly adventure. Life is, alas, not considerate of a teen's preferences.

Sabrena Swept Away by Karuna Riazi

Pre-Con

Sep. 19th, 2025 09:24 am
lydamorehouse: (crazy eyed Renji)
[personal profile] lydamorehouse
 Things don't kick off here at Capclave until after 1 pm, and I am, unfortuntely, an early riser. At least with the time zone shift waking up at Saint Paul 6:30 am is a much more reasonable (for most people) 7:30 am here.

I let Naomi sleep in and went in search of coffee. The hotel has a Starbucks so, in desperation, there's always that. But I live in hope of a good latte. I didn't exactly find one, though Chateau de Rockville Cafe wasn't bad. As I told my wife this morning, it was more bakery than coffeeshop. I might try a place called The Espresso Bar (GPS thinks it's a 7 minute walk from the hotel (on the other side of the metro line, which is directly behind the con hotel.) 

For reasons known only to Rockville, the little strip malls around the hotel seem to be filled with Japanese-themed shops. There's even a place called Teso Life, which porports to be in the style of a Japanese "departo" (department store.) The internet tells me, howeve, that it is not a Japanese company. This is an American company that is importing the vibe, if you will. There is an Eibsu, which is a Japanese grocery store with a lot of Japanese products and just a ton of other places like this. I don't know if this is a Japantown little corridor in Rockville or just a quirk.Okay a quick jaunt over to Reddit tells me that where we are, the Rockville Pike, does in fact have a small community of Japanese immigrants/Japanese Americans. I am warned, however, that the Teso Life is actually owned by a Chinese company. Apparently, the Maruichi Japanese grocery store and Temari Japanese cafe on Rockville Pike, are both run by Japanese expats.Regardless, I'm excited to check it out. And we need to do something for awhile. 

I'm glad I packed a pair of shorts, however. In my little jaunt for coffee, I managed to get very sweaty. It's warm here today. Shawn tells me that y'all in the Twin Cities got a lovely thunderstorm last night. 

Okay, I'm off exploring more exciting news as it breaks.

New Worlds: Camp Followers

Sep. 19th, 2025 06:00 am
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Posted by Marie Brennan

There’s a phrase that gets used in the context of armies: “tooth to tail,” a metaphorical way of describing the ratio of combatants (the tooth) to the non-combatants that carry out their support work (the tail). This ratio can vary widely, and there’s no universal ideal; it depends heavily on circumstances. Modern armies, for example, can easily be more than half tail, due to all their specialized equipment and the need for personnel who can operate and service that equipment. It will be rare for anything large enough to call an “army” to have no tail at all . . . but generally speaking, commanders are going to want to minimize that component, because it’s yet more hungry mouths slowing the army down and making the logistical burden worse.

They frequently fail at this goal.

Starting with those commanders themselves! Officers are often permitted more leeway and perks than the common rabble, not only due to their military rank, but due to their status outside the army (remember that many, if not all, of these guys in a pre-modern army will be noblemen and the like). Naturally they will not be expected to pitch their own tents, cook their own meals, and so forth. Instead they will bring along paid servants or unpaid slaves to do that work — and to pack and unpack their beds, chairs to sit on, carpets to walk on, bathtubs to soak in, whatever creature comforts they have the wealth and influence to get away with. Plus, of course, carts and draft animals and teamsters to transport all that stuff. Maybe their own personal priest, a secretary to handle their correspondence, a chronicler to record their deeds, a musician to entertain them in idle moments . . . the list is potentially endless, and for some high-ranking officers it amounted to an entire manor house’s worth of attendants to mitigate the discomforts of war.

The rank and file didn’t enjoy as much luxury, of course, but that didn’t mean they went wholly without. Maybe a slightly richer guy had a single servant, or a whole unit would share the services of one or two. Or — and here we move into a new category — they brought in someone with a more personal connection.

It may seem unthinkable to us that anyone would bring their wife (or mistress or unwed sweetheart) and even their children along to a war, but in practice, it was quite common. This wasn’t purely a matter of sexual convenience: for professional soldiers, often without a fixed home apart from their army camp, it might be the only way to have a family. And officers, of course, again had more latitude to keep a woman on hand. From her side of things, maybe she couldn’t support herself at home with her husband gone . . . or maybe she wasn’t married at all, and, with her virtue stained by her soldier, she had little choice but to follow him and make what life she could. Folksongs are full of girls who chase after their men on the basis of love alone; we may question how often the situation was that purely romantic. (Or lasted if it indeed started out that way.)

Other people accompanying the army are doing so in a more mercantile spirit. Even a well-supplied force is only supplying the basics; if you want anything nicer in the way of food and drink, you can apply to one of the sutlers (a generic term for a role that goes by many era- and location-specific names). Sometimes these people are operating under a formal contract with the army; arrangements to supply food on a large-scale basis show up here and there in the historical record, though they’re rarely financially wise. More often, sutlers are entrepreneurs looking to profit off the soldiers’ pay — and may also help paper over gaps in that pay by extending credit or loans, in the expectation of future compensation.

Food and drink are hardly the limit of what sutlers might deal in, though. Some of them seem almost like merchants in a video game, offering a better selection of weapons and armor than official issue, and buying the valuables looted during a foraging expedition or the sack of a city so the soldier doesn’t have to drag them hither and yon. Depending on the society, those “valuables” might include people: where a commander expects to capture and enslave portions of the target population, he’ll want slave dealers on hand with the means to transport all the victims to market elsewhere.

Less materially, camp followers might offer various services to the army. In fiction I’ve often seen that term used almost exclusively as a euphemism for prostitutes, and that’s not entirely off target; soldiers absolutely want to get laid, and so it’s often been taken as a given that women should be on hand for that. (If they aren’t, soldiers will be more likely to go AWOL in search of civilians — or bugger each other, as was a perennial problem on board ships, where intractable limitations mean you couldn’t have a whole community of non-combatants around. And most of these societies greatly disapproved of the buggery option.)

But camp followers aren’t only prostitutes. In its broad sense, the term can mean anybody who follows the army camp: the servants, the sutlers, and anybody else offering a service the soldiers need and can’t or don’t want to do themselves. Washing and mending clothes and boots, repairing gear, cooking food, bandaging wounds, treating illnesses, providing entertainment in the form of gambling or performances — anything that might earn the follower something like a living. They even helped out in foraging and pillaging situations, dealing with the pragmatics of collection, transportation, and distribution while the soldiers operated as the army’s teeth.

If this chaotic situation sounds like a recipe for terrible military discipline, you’re not wrong! Commanders often wanted to get rid of these hangers-on not just because they ate up local resources and slowed the army down, but because they contributed to soldiers drinking, fighting, and pissing away their pay, sometimes before they even received it. Men who spent last night living it up in the camp’s penumbra aren’t likely to be awake and ready to march at the crack of dawn. If you want a lean, mean military machine, you need to pare this down as much as humanly possible.

The flip side is, these people are good for morale. If you actually succeed in getting rid of all the wives and servants and merchants offering things that make army life a little more bearable, then at best you’re going to have a bunch of men who resent you for restricting them to a routine of monotonous food, menial drudgery, and no entertainment. At worst, your army may collapse, because it turns out that it can’t function without those supplements propping up your own failing logistics. If you want a lean, mean military machine that works, you need good organization, and you need to inspire enough loyalty and zeal that your soldiers will put up with having to march for miles and still cook their own meals at the end of that day.

I want to note one thing in closing here, which is the effect this whole situation has on gender. Even if you’re writing about an army in a society that looks like the historical norm — male soldiers, heteronormative expectations — women are unlikely to be absent from the picture. It’s not just about the wives and the prostitutes; quite a few of the sutlers and service providers may be women, especially since these are hardly rigid categories with no overlap. It takes way more organizational rigor than your average pre-industrial army had to create a truly all-male environment, with women only appearing in sexual roles, and only when soldiers are given leave to seek them out. Navies could more easily sequester their combatants in single-sex environments, but for armies in the field, it’s much less likely.

It’s hardly a safe situation for the women, of course. Whether they’re prostitutes or not, undisciplined soldiers may assume anybody female is fair game; meanwhile, the enemy is hardly going to spare non-combatants if the army winds up on the losing side of a battle. Camp followers of any gender might be armed — there are famous historical incidents of women stepping up when their husbands were killed — but generally not, and in the pre-gunpowder era it’s going to be harder for an unarmored and untrained person to achieve much. So while they can and will fight in a pinch (because it’s better than just dying), they’re not part of the army’s effective combat strength.

And that is why, if they could, commanders would rather do without them as much as possible. It’s just that “as much as possible” may or may not go very far!

The Patreon logo with the text "This post is brought to you by my imaginative backers at Patreon. To join their ranks, click here!"

Hello From Santa Cruz

Sep. 19th, 2025 04:37 am
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Posted by John Scalzi

Forgot to post a “view from a hotel window” view today, but this interesting contraption was right down the street from me, so I thought you might like it instead. Tonight’s event was lovely and tomorrow I will be in San Diego, at Mysterious Galaxy bookstore at 7pm. You should come by and say hello to me there.

— JS

SOTD: Say My Name, "Goldilocks Water"

Sep. 18th, 2025 10:07 pm
brithistorian: (Default)
[personal profile] brithistorian

This popped up on my playlist today while I was doing some yardwork and I loved it. When I came in, I watched the video, and I loved it more: They were apparently copying Weeekly's aesthetic, which I fine with me: I can always use more of Weeekly's aesthetic, especially now that Weeekly has disbanded. Enjoy!

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Posted by thebloggess

Hello and welcome to the most boring blog post title I’ve ever written. Sorry, but I thought I’d reach out and try to crowdsource (after getting permission from my kiddo, Hailey.) You may remember that they were in the hospital for quite a while this summer with meningitis. The drs never figured out what causedContinue reading "Crowdsourcing recurrent aseptic meningitis treatment"
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Posted by Alicia Rasley

Bobbie Gentry, a Mississippi singer/songwriter, wrote several great story songs. “Fancy” is my favorite, the story of a poor but beautiful girl being coached by her mama how to sell herself to the highest bidder. Okay, that’s kind of a disturbing lesson, but the song ends “happily,” with the brilliant line, “I may have been born just poor white trash, but Fancy is my name.” (Interestingly, later Bobbie Gentry married a rich older man and got a good settlement in the divorce. Mama would be proud.)

Bobbie Gentry’s most famous story song, one made into a (lousy) TV film, was the 1967 “Ode to Billie Joe.” This is the story of a boy in a Mississippi town who jumps off a bridge to his death, told by a girl-friend who seems to be the only one who cares. Earlier in the week, someone witnessed the two of them “throwing something off the Tallahatchee Bridge.” This line inspired much speculation—what was that something?—but that’s not the real mystery of the song.

Why doesn’t anyone care about this boy’s suicide?

The Start of the Story

The song is set in a real place, Money, MS, near where Bobbie Gentry grew up. Choctaw Ridge and the Tallahatchie River are also real places. The song opens with a note-perfect description of the midday meal of a farm family in the Delta:

Was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day.
I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was balin’ hay.
And at dinnertime we stopped and walked back to the house to eat,
And Mama hollered out the back door y’all remember to wipe your feet.

That precise identification of time and place and characters immediately leads into the story conflict:

And then she said I got some news this mornin’ from Choctaw Ridge,
Today Billie Joe MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge.

The Middle

This would be shocking news at most dinner tables, but this family shrugs it off:

And Papa said to Mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas,
Well, Billie Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits please.
There’s five more acres in the lower forty I got to plow.

One person does make a perfunctory expression of regret, connecting the event to some local superstition about Billie Joe’s chosen jumping place:

And Mama said it was shame about Billie Joe, anyhow.
Seems like nothin’ ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,
And now Billie Joe MacAllister’s jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge.

Notice how Gentry creates a true dialogue, by having Mama’s line rhyme with Papa’s.

Another family member has a slightly more personal response, and a “recollection” of an experience with Billie Joe and the narrator. This humanizes them, and adds detail to the paradoxically cozy rural setting:

And Brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billie Joe

Put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show.
And wasn’t I talkin’ to him after church last Sunday night?
I’ll have another piece of apple pie, you know it don’t seem right.
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge.
And now you tell me Billie Joe’s jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge

At this point, the narrator is just reporting, but something changes with the mention of her own relationship to Billie Joe:

Mama said to me, Child, what’s happened to your appetite?
I’ve been cookin’ all mornin’ and you haven’t touched a single bite.

 

 

The Mystery

Finally there’s that mystery element:
That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today,
Said he’d be pleased to have dinner on Sunday, oh, by the way.
He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge,
And she and Billie Joe was throwing somethin’ off the Tallahatchie Bridge.

Now the songwriter has said that there’s really no mystery, that whatever it is (NOT a baby or a doll or a wedding ring or any of the other speculations) is only meant to reinforce that the narrator and Billie Joe had a relationship, maybe a friendship, maybe a romance. The real mystery is why no one else in the family realizes that their girl might be suffering, that this news would be a terrible shock, that maybe that nice young preacher should be called in to help—that Billie Joe’s suicide is more than just a gossip item.

Yes, this family seems weirdly complacent both about the suicide and the daughter’s grief. And that’s the real mystery. Are they sociopathic? Or just preoccupied with the difficulties of farming and rural poverty?

Let’s ponder the meaning of this, and come back for Part 2 for the ending and those echoes through the centuries.

anais_pf: (Default)
[personal profile] anais_pf posting in [community profile] thefridayfive
These questions were originally suggested by [livejournal.com profile] polypolyglot.

1. Do you believe you can have more than one soulmate in life?

2. Are you with that soulmate now?

3. If not, how long did your relationship with your soulmate last?

4. Do you still think about your soulmate, if you are not together?

5. If you're not together, do you think your soulmate still thinks about you?

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Assorted things and stuff

Sep. 18th, 2025 06:00 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin

Dept of, inventing the city: Fake History: Some notes on London's bogus past. (NB - isn't Nancy murdered on the steps of a bridge in the 1948 movie of Oliver Twist? or do I misremember.) (And as for the Charing Cross thing, that is the ongoing 'London remaking itself and having layers', surely?)

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Dept of, smutty puns, classical division: Yet More on Ancient Greek Dildos:

Nelson, in my opinion, has made a solid argument for his conclusions that, while “olisbos” was one of many ancient Greek euphemisms for a dildo, this was not its primary meaning, nor was it the primary term for the sex toy. Rather, this impression has been given by an accident of historiography.

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Dept of, not silently suffering for centuries: The 17th-century woman who wrote about surviving domestic abuse.

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Dept of, another story involving literacy (and ill-health): Child hospital care dates from 18th Century - study:

"Almost certainly she was taught to read and write while she was an inpatient."
He suspects just as part of the infirmary's remit was to get its adult patients back to work, by teaching children to read and write it would increase their employment opportunities.

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Dept of, I approve the intention but cringe at certain of the suggestions: How To Raise a Reader in an Age of Digital Distraction:

Active engagement is crucial. This doesn’t mean turning every book into an interactive multimedia experience. Rather, it means ensuring that children are mentally participating in the reading process rather than passively consuming. With toddlers, this might mean encouraging them to point to pictures, make sound effects, or predict what comes next. With older children, it involves asking questions that go beyond basic comprehension: “What do you think motivates this character?” “How would the story change if it were set in our neighborhood?”

Let's not? There's a point where that become intrusive.

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Dept of, not enough ugh: Sephora workers on the rise of chaotic child shoppers: ‘She looked 10 years old and her skin was burning’

The phenomenon of “Sephora kids” – a catch-all phrase for the intense attachment between preteen children, high-end beauty stores and the expensive, sometimes harsh, products that are sold within them – is now well established.... The trend is driven by skincare content produced by beauty influencers – many of whom are tweens and teens themselves.... skincare routines posted by teens and tweens on TikTok contained an average of 11 potentially irritating active ingredients per routine, which risked causing acute reactions and triggering lifelong allergies.

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