The first of McKillip
Oct. 26th, 2007 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amelia_petkovaI just got around to typing these up--I've had them written out for a couple years.
I adore the writing of Patricia A. McKillip. This isn't even my favorite book of hers, but I still love the language. Her stories are more like poetry than prose. Reading her novels (and not all of them are in this style) made me realize the importance of each word. I can only hope to write as half as beautifully as her. (Patricia A. McKillip has shown me how to form language, especially description. Peter S. Beagle, among others, showed me the importance of capturing the reader's emotions, though I am still struggling to learn how. A.S. Byatt showed me how to write stories within stories.) One day, I shall get around to writing more letters to authors.
I've said this isn't my favorite book, but there are still parts of it that I love. One of my favorites is how the prince wears glasses and is always losing or breaking them. (Finally! A character in a fantasy novel with glasses!) He's also learning how to be a mage, and at one point accidentally breaks every mirror in the castle.
Quotes from The Book of Atrix Wolfe
By Patricia A. McKillip
“The White Wolf followed the ravens down the crags of Chaumenard to the wintry fields of Pelucir.”
“His dreams turned dark with the coming of winter, chaotic, disturbed by fire, blood, the sharp, hoarse cries of ravens calling to one another, the cries of humans.” (1)
“he was a shimmer of icy wind blowing down the mountain’s flank”
“the slow river running under its bridge reflecting such green that drinking it would be drinking summer itself.”
“dreams and random nightmares blew against him and clung.” (2)
“’This one will turn himself and his household into ghosts before he will surrender to you.’”
--Atrix
(5)
“white-streaked dark, trees as barren as bone under moonlight, fires blossoming everywhere on the white field.”
“Her long hair held all the reds and bright golds and yellows of autumn leaves; her eyes were dark and gold, owl’s eyes.” (7)
“Hounds, she knew: her mother’s were gold as sun, red as fire, white as bone.” (9)
“The mage was shaking, he realized, with a fury the wolf might have felt, caught in the iron teeth of a trap.” (11)
“A rider with the black moon rising among his burning horns” (12)
“But his eyes, behind lenses reflecting the brilliant light above the mountain peak, were opaque” (14)
“puzzle-piece of dream”
“a darkness streaking through the air.” (16)
“The Shadow of the Wolf, the students called the mist.”
“Look for the white wolf who casts a white shadow.” (21)
“ember of gossip” (27)
“The cauldron washed pots by day and dreamed at nights.”
“The dark water turned gold. Golden leaves hung everywhere on slender white trees, on massive, towering trees that had grown a graceful, arching filigree of branches. White hounds ran on a path of gold beneath the trees; now and then a leaf would fall, glittering, through the still air. Riders on white horses followed the hounds; leaves scattering in their wake spun whirlwinds of gold in the air, then fell again. The faces of the riders were sometimes human, sometimes of green leaf or of smooth brown twig. Above them, the trees drew up their branches, or sometimes bent a bough to touch the riders with a leafy hand.” (30)
“In the way of dreams, he knew and did not know that he had crossed some boundary between worlds.” (32)
“The sun had barely risen; through the dark trees he saw the cold, jagged peaks high above, and the bright, cold light above them” (33)
“One rider was a man with pale bright hair, the second a child with his pearly hair, flowing long and unbound on the wind. The third rider had hair the color of autumn leaves, with ribbons and strands of pearls braided into it. She wore a crown of deer horn and gold. There was a black oval where her face should have been. Behind them rode hunters with faces of leaves, of twisted willow boughs, or smooth white birch bark.”
“The air shattered into hoarfrost and light.” (38)
“The face in the door opened an eye as he opened the door, then went back to sleep.” (46)
“Three hounds as white as bone, with eyes and shadows red as blood.” (51)
“Princes were no more real to her than roses or gold or a living boar, or the world beyond the kitchen garden.” (57)
“She moved again, slowly, up stairs of white stone and stairs of dark stone, while owls did and did not swivel their heads to look at her through their great golden eyes.” (61)
“’You’re coming alive. Your eyes are listening. Don’t let them see. You’re someone’s secret. Don’t let them find you alive.’”
--sweeper
(84)
“The leaves hung still, shining green flames; if a wind rose, it seemed they would ring together like fine glass.”
“felt light like sweet wine on his lips.” (85)
“’Outside of trying to kill me now and then, the life you lead is far too respectable.’”
--Burne
(88)
“something so familiar no one bothered noticing it, not even when it was stalked by a bloody moon above a hunter’s masked face.”
(105)
“Light-moving, she was, like a bird, and graceful as water. Water never makes a movement without grace.
“The Hunter rode with ravens on his horns.”
(108)
“As he fell he melted into his shadow, cast by the moon into a net of boughs. Shadow, he picked himself up and limped to an oak, then molded himself like bark around its trunk.” (109)
“Three horses as white as moonlight with shadows of moonlight” (114)
“moonlight limned jagged pieces of glass still clinging to the frame.”
“A letter, graceful and tangled around itself, glinted gold in the light, floated next to her foot.” (116)
“a bottle of brandy in which a pear, like some great golden pearl, hung suspended.”
“and the simmering in their dreams began to fade.” (121)
“The door opened; night stood a moment at the doorway, dark and crowned with stars.” (124)
Burne: She does what? She shoots you? Does she kill you?
Atrix: I don’t know. It’s a dream—I haven’t died, yet.
(132)
“’You don’t offer your heart to what shapes itself out of water or light or white birch.’”
--Burne
(136)
“expression breathed across her face like wind across water” (141)
“feeling sorrow with all its thorns bloom in his heart.” (144)
“An oak tree opened a mouth in a seam of bark and said, Atrix Wolfe.”
“truth lay in it like a nut in a nutshell” (146)
“The fierce, hot green stillness of midsummer” (147)
“She watched little flames spring up now and then out of the darkening embers, like ghosts, like memories of fire, until, half-dreaming, she forgot that fire had a name, and saw only bright random blossoms of color spring up, out of shimmering red and dark, flow gracefully from shape to shape, then burrow down again, hide among the rustling embers, where something restless would snap and fling a sparkling swarm of insects or stars into the air.” (162)
“Lilies made of bronze and glass and wax grew around the pool, some as high as saplings, others lit like candles, scenting the air with honey.” (169)
“The fire unfolded and flowed like silk across the water.” (174)
“Yet she saw him, in her magic cauldron, and she felt an odd tumult in her, as though she had swallowed a thunder-cloud, its rumbles and flashes of illumination like words trying to form.” (180)
“Leaves whirled around her suddenly, a great storm of green, as if they had been torn away by a season out of time.”
“The blowing leaves were raven-black; they cried in hoarse ragged voices as they spun away.” (187)
“blue running water so cold it burned.” (191)
“He was on his feet before he thought, cup in his hands, wanting to throw it for no good reason except that stones were not leaves, and shadow was not light.” (198)
“As if she had enchanted herself into being, with her own magic.” (210)
“She felt words, like leaves, falling endlessly, silently through her.” (212)
“her eyes were cold as winter stars.” (223)
“Sorrow burned, she learned then, like dry kindling, like scalding water.”
“She swallowed pain again, which seemed to come with language.” (227)
“the magic in young mages’ eyes, quick and lucent as flame” (238)
“bone-white scythe of the moon.” (243)
“’Tell me all your names.’”
--Saro
(247)
I would love to be able to make icons using quotes from her books. Many of the covers are done by Kinuko Y. Craft, whose art is amazing.
Several other McKillip books written in this style:
--The Tower at Stony Wood (My favorite, and the first one I read.)
--Ombria in Shadow
--Harrowing the Dragon (collection of short stories)
--Song for the Basilisk
--In the Forests of Serre (Baba Yaga wears green sunglasses!)
I adore the writing of Patricia A. McKillip. This isn't even my favorite book of hers, but I still love the language. Her stories are more like poetry than prose. Reading her novels (and not all of them are in this style) made me realize the importance of each word. I can only hope to write as half as beautifully as her. (Patricia A. McKillip has shown me how to form language, especially description. Peter S. Beagle, among others, showed me the importance of capturing the reader's emotions, though I am still struggling to learn how. A.S. Byatt showed me how to write stories within stories.) One day, I shall get around to writing more letters to authors.
I've said this isn't my favorite book, but there are still parts of it that I love. One of my favorites is how the prince wears glasses and is always losing or breaking them. (Finally! A character in a fantasy novel with glasses!) He's also learning how to be a mage, and at one point accidentally breaks every mirror in the castle.
Quotes from The Book of Atrix Wolfe
By Patricia A. McKillip
“The White Wolf followed the ravens down the crags of Chaumenard to the wintry fields of Pelucir.”
“His dreams turned dark with the coming of winter, chaotic, disturbed by fire, blood, the sharp, hoarse cries of ravens calling to one another, the cries of humans.” (1)
“he was a shimmer of icy wind blowing down the mountain’s flank”
“the slow river running under its bridge reflecting such green that drinking it would be drinking summer itself.”
“dreams and random nightmares blew against him and clung.” (2)
“’This one will turn himself and his household into ghosts before he will surrender to you.’”
--Atrix
(5)
“white-streaked dark, trees as barren as bone under moonlight, fires blossoming everywhere on the white field.”
“Her long hair held all the reds and bright golds and yellows of autumn leaves; her eyes were dark and gold, owl’s eyes.” (7)
“Hounds, she knew: her mother’s were gold as sun, red as fire, white as bone.” (9)
“The mage was shaking, he realized, with a fury the wolf might have felt, caught in the iron teeth of a trap.” (11)
“A rider with the black moon rising among his burning horns” (12)
“But his eyes, behind lenses reflecting the brilliant light above the mountain peak, were opaque” (14)
“puzzle-piece of dream”
“a darkness streaking through the air.” (16)
“The Shadow of the Wolf, the students called the mist.”
“Look for the white wolf who casts a white shadow.” (21)
“ember of gossip” (27)
“The cauldron washed pots by day and dreamed at nights.”
“The dark water turned gold. Golden leaves hung everywhere on slender white trees, on massive, towering trees that had grown a graceful, arching filigree of branches. White hounds ran on a path of gold beneath the trees; now and then a leaf would fall, glittering, through the still air. Riders on white horses followed the hounds; leaves scattering in their wake spun whirlwinds of gold in the air, then fell again. The faces of the riders were sometimes human, sometimes of green leaf or of smooth brown twig. Above them, the trees drew up their branches, or sometimes bent a bough to touch the riders with a leafy hand.” (30)
“In the way of dreams, he knew and did not know that he had crossed some boundary between worlds.” (32)
“The sun had barely risen; through the dark trees he saw the cold, jagged peaks high above, and the bright, cold light above them” (33)
“One rider was a man with pale bright hair, the second a child with his pearly hair, flowing long and unbound on the wind. The third rider had hair the color of autumn leaves, with ribbons and strands of pearls braided into it. She wore a crown of deer horn and gold. There was a black oval where her face should have been. Behind them rode hunters with faces of leaves, of twisted willow boughs, or smooth white birch bark.”
“The air shattered into hoarfrost and light.” (38)
“The face in the door opened an eye as he opened the door, then went back to sleep.” (46)
“Three hounds as white as bone, with eyes and shadows red as blood.” (51)
“Princes were no more real to her than roses or gold or a living boar, or the world beyond the kitchen garden.” (57)
“She moved again, slowly, up stairs of white stone and stairs of dark stone, while owls did and did not swivel their heads to look at her through their great golden eyes.” (61)
“’You’re coming alive. Your eyes are listening. Don’t let them see. You’re someone’s secret. Don’t let them find you alive.’”
--sweeper
(84)
“The leaves hung still, shining green flames; if a wind rose, it seemed they would ring together like fine glass.”
“felt light like sweet wine on his lips.” (85)
“’Outside of trying to kill me now and then, the life you lead is far too respectable.’”
--Burne
(88)
“something so familiar no one bothered noticing it, not even when it was stalked by a bloody moon above a hunter’s masked face.”
(105)
“Light-moving, she was, like a bird, and graceful as water. Water never makes a movement without grace.
“The Hunter rode with ravens on his horns.”
(108)
“As he fell he melted into his shadow, cast by the moon into a net of boughs. Shadow, he picked himself up and limped to an oak, then molded himself like bark around its trunk.” (109)
“Three horses as white as moonlight with shadows of moonlight” (114)
“moonlight limned jagged pieces of glass still clinging to the frame.”
“A letter, graceful and tangled around itself, glinted gold in the light, floated next to her foot.” (116)
“a bottle of brandy in which a pear, like some great golden pearl, hung suspended.”
“and the simmering in their dreams began to fade.” (121)
“The door opened; night stood a moment at the doorway, dark and crowned with stars.” (124)
Burne: She does what? She shoots you? Does she kill you?
Atrix: I don’t know. It’s a dream—I haven’t died, yet.
(132)
“’You don’t offer your heart to what shapes itself out of water or light or white birch.’”
--Burne
(136)
“expression breathed across her face like wind across water” (141)
“feeling sorrow with all its thorns bloom in his heart.” (144)
“An oak tree opened a mouth in a seam of bark and said, Atrix Wolfe.”
“truth lay in it like a nut in a nutshell” (146)
“The fierce, hot green stillness of midsummer” (147)
“She watched little flames spring up now and then out of the darkening embers, like ghosts, like memories of fire, until, half-dreaming, she forgot that fire had a name, and saw only bright random blossoms of color spring up, out of shimmering red and dark, flow gracefully from shape to shape, then burrow down again, hide among the rustling embers, where something restless would snap and fling a sparkling swarm of insects or stars into the air.” (162)
“Lilies made of bronze and glass and wax grew around the pool, some as high as saplings, others lit like candles, scenting the air with honey.” (169)
“The fire unfolded and flowed like silk across the water.” (174)
“Yet she saw him, in her magic cauldron, and she felt an odd tumult in her, as though she had swallowed a thunder-cloud, its rumbles and flashes of illumination like words trying to form.” (180)
“Leaves whirled around her suddenly, a great storm of green, as if they had been torn away by a season out of time.”
“The blowing leaves were raven-black; they cried in hoarse ragged voices as they spun away.” (187)
“blue running water so cold it burned.” (191)
“He was on his feet before he thought, cup in his hands, wanting to throw it for no good reason except that stones were not leaves, and shadow was not light.” (198)
“As if she had enchanted herself into being, with her own magic.” (210)
“She felt words, like leaves, falling endlessly, silently through her.” (212)
“her eyes were cold as winter stars.” (223)
“Sorrow burned, she learned then, like dry kindling, like scalding water.”
“She swallowed pain again, which seemed to come with language.” (227)
“the magic in young mages’ eyes, quick and lucent as flame” (238)
“bone-white scythe of the moon.” (243)
“’Tell me all your names.’”
--Saro
(247)
I would love to be able to make icons using quotes from her books. Many of the covers are done by Kinuko Y. Craft, whose art is amazing.
Several other McKillip books written in this style:
--The Tower at Stony Wood (My favorite, and the first one I read.)
--Ombria in Shadow
--Harrowing the Dragon (collection of short stories)
--Song for the Basilisk
--In the Forests of Serre (Baba Yaga wears green sunglasses!)
