Sorn, Lewis and authors thematics

Sorn: It sounds like the name of a laughably bad guy of a csi-fi flick. It's obtaining food and lodge from another presuming it wont be denied. Comes from an old vassal obligation to lords called sorren.

Got that little one from a book of Lewis, from his sci-fi actually. I'm ravenously reading Out of the Silent Planet, and enjoying the allegory (applicability, bah!). It's somewhat spiritual, but that's to par with the author's usual theme.

You know, just some days back we were talking about this with mom: about how an author usually has ONE theme, because it's their theme, the theme of their lives or their minds, the one that builds in their souls and ends up spilling in paper. I'm talking about big game here. Gabriel García Marquez, Mark Twain, Dickens, Asimov, Faulkner, Steinbeck, Orwell, Verne, London, Buck, Ende. And why not, even King and Allende.

Thoughts?

Knackerman and the curious origins of everyday expressions

Knackerman: Comes from knacker, that was (is?) the trade of rendering animals not fit from human consumption (like road kills, old beast and the like). From there comes the expression knackered, as in, you feel old, dead and ready to be taken to the knacker.


Interesting, huh? Sometimes regency romances pay in unexpected ways.

(Yeah, I'm taking a breather from Lolita; pausing every couple of pages for a word search makes it a grueling reading. Awesome writing, though.)

Lissome and guilty pleasures

Lissome: Lithe, flexible.

From a romantic book set in Scotland. What can I say, I need my guilty pleasures every once in a while. They usually leave me feeling like I ate something terribly greasy, and ready and primed for something more healthy and nutritious. In a very sick way, they accomplish what they ought.

Quinces, Gobling Market and Lips Touch

I drift through books, through the net, through songs, and learn new words for my second language. Today they are:

Tchotchkes: Trinket

Quince: Membrillo

Speaking of fruits, I reckon I'll get a host of new ones after I do a third thrift through Goblin Market (first was for listening to the luscious narration of this excellent audio version, second for clarification on the parts that the haze of pleasure overtook, I'm hoping the third will be the objective nitpicking one)

And speaking of Victorian naughty poems, check one of their spawns: Goblin Fruit, first tale of Lips Touch: Three Times by Laini Taylor 

Come on, do it. This is a taste of the artwork inside

You know you want to