On Being a Groupie.

Civil Twilight played a show at the Handlebar last night, which was incredible, as always.

But during the show, I realized something interesting. Civil Twilight does an excellent cover version of the Massive Attack song “Teardrop.” I’ve heard them play it three times now. I can now tell within the first  few notes from Andrew Mckellar’s guitar that they’re starting to play “Teardrop.”

I’ve seen them enough times to recognize almost immediately when they’re playing a song that isn’t even their own. Yes, I’m that awesome fangirl.

#85: The Georgia Guidestones

Yesterday, Harvin, Ticcoa, Jess, and I took a relatively short trip to Georgia to see the Georgia Guidestones. A few weeks ago, I read an article in The Week about the Guidestones, and we decided to celebrate the 4th of July by learning how to survive the apocalypse.

A mystery surrounds the identity of the man who commissioned the building of the guidestones. The article in The Week is a very well-written, informative article outlining the history of the monument, so you should read that if you want more background.Essentially, this sixteen-foot-tall monument was erected in order to guide any survivors of the apocalpyse as to how to rebuild society. There are ten (very vague) guidelines etched in granite in 8 modern languages: English, Spanish, Russian, Chinese, Hebrew, Arabic, Hindi, and Swahili.

The guidelines:

1. Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature. (For this to happen, at least 9 out of 10 people would have had to die in the apocalypse.)

2. Guide reproduction wisely – improving fitness and diversity. (Goes hand-in-hand with #1? And “improve fitness and diversity”…are we controlling genetic factors now?)

3. Unite humanity with a living new language. (I’ve studied HEL…this will be almost impossible unless the only survivors speak one language. And this seemingly contradicts the 8 modern languages and 4 ancient one etched into the guidestones.)

4. Rule passion – faith – tradition – and all things with tempered reason. (Head vs. heart? Ethan Brand, did you visit the guidestones?)

5. Protect people and nations with fair laws and just courts. (Evidently, the creators of the guidestones believed in some higher power guiding justice and morality.)

6. Let all nations rule internally resolving external disputes in a world court. (World court? That’s sort of a scary idea. But I suppose if people manage to survive the apocalypse, anything is possible.)

7. Avoid petty laws and useless officials. (Who exactly decides what is petty and useless?)

8. Balance personal rights with social duties. (Okay. How?)

9. Prize truth – beauty – love – seeking harmony with the infinite. (The infinite what precisely? Still, I think this is my favorite of the guidelines.)

10. Be not a cancer on the earth – Leave room for nature – Leave room for nature. (So important, they had to say it twice.)

It was, of course, a fun trip. The Guidestones are only about an hour and a half away, in the middle of freakin’ nowhere Georgia. (Really, south of Hartwell, north of Elberton…lots of long country roads and farmland.) We listened to Muse’s Absolution album (really, is there another soundtrack more perfect? The first song is called “Apocolaypse Please”!). Jess regaled us with conspiracy theories about the impending apocalypse on Dec. 21, 2012, and encouraged us to join her on the floating island that will somehow survive. We got lost, but Harvin with her impressive directional skills managed to find her way back to civilization. And we followed the trip up with lunch at Applebee’s, where we requested to sit in the back corner of the restaurant, next to a big picture of Harry and Ron, and next to the kitchen, where we heard all the waiters talking and laughing; we also watched (and laughed hysterically at) a hot dog eating contest on ESPN while we waited for our food. Happy Independence Day, indeed!

We’re Off to Massachusetts!

In Spring 2008, I took a class at NGU called New England Writers. My roommate/BFF Harvin did, as well, and there we met Ticcoa, who quickly became one of our favorite people. We all took the class in anticipation of discussing great literature with one of our favorite professors (Yay, Dr. Thompson!) and then embarking on a ten-day road trip to visit the Mecca of the literary world, Boston, Massachusetts.

We planned. We researched. We dreamed. We devoured literature from New England. And then the trip was canceled due to a TON of different reasons.

But Ticcoa, Harvin, and I refused to believe that we would never make it to Boston. We kept dreaming and discussing. And we decided we’d go this summer. The trip-planning hasn’t been without it’s nail-biting moments, however. We moved the date back when I was potentially offered the chance to teach a summer school class (which eventually fell through). We’ve saved and searched for the best deals, wondering if it was possible to do this on our limited budgets.

Yesterday, I booked a hotel about 15 miles outside of Boston. We leave four weeks from today. And it finally feels real…my best friends and I will spend ten days on the road, exploring New England, stepping on hallowed ground where such writers as Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Louisa May Alcott, and Edgar Allan Poe lived and breathed, died and were buried, changed the world! For months, I’ve wanted this more than anything else. I’ve spent hours daydreaming about walking around Walden Pond, wearing my Threadless “Poetic Irony” shirt at Poe’s grave, taking photographs of the houses where some of my favorite writers lived.  For an English major, this will be heaven. And I’m going with two of my best friends.

What exactly will we be doing?, you may be asking yourself. Or, you know, perhaps not. I’ll tell you anyway.

At some point, on the trip up or back, we’ll be stopping off in Richmond, Virginia, to visit the Poe Museum, and in Baltimore, Maryland, to visit Poe’s grave. POE’S GRAVE!!!!! One of my very favorite writers and a cemetery? Good grief, it will be spectacular!

On the way back, we’re also swinging through Hartford, Connecticut, to visit the Mark Twain House and the first school for the deaf (Coa’s passionate about the deaf community and American Sign Language).

During the six days we’ll actually be in Massachusetts, we have plans to visit Boston, Cambridge, Concord, Salem, and Amherst:

Boston is, of course, one of the most historic cities in America. We’ll walk the Freedom Trail and see where many of the event’s of our country’s history played out. The site of the Boston Massacre; Boston Common, America’s oldest public park; the site of the Old Corner Bookstore, where The Scarlet Letter and Walden were first published; Paul Revere’s House; the Old North Church, inspiration for Longfellow’s poem “Paul Revere’s Ride.” And maybe I can sneak a glimpse of Fenway Park? (My fellow travelers HATE sports, so this might be difficult.)

Cambridge is home of the Longfellow National Historic Site, and we’ll probably take a walking tour of the town and spot the homes where famous writers (including Eliot!) at some point lived or visited.

Concord is pretty much the birthplace of American literature, and we’ll spend two days exploring that town. Emerson’s house; Orchard House, home of the Alcotts; the Old Manse, where Emerson, Hawthorne, and others lived at different points in time; the Concord Museum; Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, where Emerson, Thoreau, and the Alcotts are all buried; and, of course, Walden Pond.

Salem is, of course, most famous for the Salem Witch Trials, so we’ll visit the kitschy Salem Witch Museum. We’ll also tour the House of the Seven Gables, which includes the Hawthorne House and some other historical locations. And perhaps we’ll catch a meal at the Witches Brew Cafe?

Amherst is a few hours from Boston, but how can we go to Massachusetts without visiting the Emily Dickinson Homestead? The answer is, we can’t, so that will be our last day in Massachusetts before we head to Hartford. There’s also an Eric Carle Museum of Picture Books that we may visit if we have enough time.

That’s at least seven author homes, two cemeteries (and probably more), and one grand adventure. It’ll be an incredibly busy, hectic ten days. But I feel like ten days feeding our passion for literature and history will not be a problem at all.

I will, of course, be blogging as much as possible. And if you follow me on Twitter (or we’re friends on Facebook), expect me to be tweeting from every location. It will probably overwhelm your feed. You’re welcome. But don’t worry, that’s still a month away.

This trip will be epic in so many ways–my first time leaving the Southeastern United States, my farthest road trip and longest vacation, and a chance to mark a number of items off my List. Boston is technically #45 on the List, but for months, it’s been the unofficial #1. Massachusetts, here we come!

June Books

I’ve officially finished the Book Challenge! (Not that I plan on stopping–how fast can I make it to 100, do you think?)

Here’s my tally for June:

1. The Sea of Trolls, Nancy Farmer. A fantastic young adult fantasy. Check out my review.

2. Just Listen, Sarah Dessen. Yes, another re-read. She’s my favorite YA author.

3. Anne of Avonlea, L. M. Montgomery. The sequel to Anne of Green Gables. Delightful, as always.

4. The Origins and Development of the English Language, 4th ed, Thomas Pyles & John Algeo. Yes, this is a textbook for my HEL class. But I read everything except the last chapter, which isn’t covered in class. Due to the tremendous amount of effort I put into this class, I’m totally counting this book towards my book challenge. And I seriously learned a lot, which is more important.

5. The Host, Stephenie Meyer. My favorite Meyer novel. My third time reading it. Also, the first book I actually reviewed on my blog.

6. Along for the Ride, Sarah Dessen. Her newest book–it came out June 16th. I was not disappointed.

7. Ghosts, Apparitions, and Poltergeists: An Exploration of the Supernatural through History, Brian Righi. If I were going to write a book about the history of ghosts, I’d hope it would look like this. Righi examines ghosts throughout centuries of history, including The Epic of Gilgamesh and Egyptian rites, through such modern-day stories as The Amityville Horror. He examines the differences between ghosts, apparitions, and poltergeists, and even discusses near-death experiences and Ouija boards, among other subjects. Basically, this book is a history of ghost lore, without ever being too scientific or too wordy. He provides needed explanations and lots of stories, and I really enjoyed reading it, actually. But then again, I’m a little morbid, too.

8. Why Buffy Matters: The Art of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Rhonda V. Wilcox. A very good critical assessment of the TV show. Wilcox spends the first six chapters discussing overall themes and concepts of the entire series, and she discusses six individual episodes in the last six chapters. One of my favorite chapters? A comparison of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land to the season 4 finale, “Restless.” Wilcox is a Buffy scholar, and she very aptly used literary theories and philosophy to examine my favorite TV show. So wonderful.

9. Love, Stargirl, Jerry Spinelli. The sequel to Stargirl. Even better than the first, if that’s possible.

10. V for Vendetta, Alan Moore and David Lloyd. In case you missed it, here are my thoughts.

11. Being Nikki, Meg Cabot. This is my 50th book of the year! Sadly, it wasn’t as great as it could have been. I wish #50 had been a better choice.

Now…on to 100!

Violence, Victims, Vaudeville, Vengeance, Victory: V for Vendetta.

“The only freedom left to my people is the freedom to starve. The freedom to die. The freedom to live in a world of chaos. Should I allow that freedom? I think not. I think not.”

-Adam Susan, leader of Fascist England

* * *

“Her name is anarchy. And she has taught me more as a mistress than you ever did! She has taught me that justice is meaningless without freedom. She is honest. She makes no promises and breaks none. Unlike you, Jezebel.”

-V to a statue of Madam Justice

* * *

Note: Spoilers. If you haven’t read the book/seen the movie, and you don’t want the ending to be spoiled, stop reading. I’m not promising not to reveal anything important.

I recently finished reading V for Vendetta for the first time. A remarkable graphic novel. I think the idea that stood out the most for me, the idea I’m still pondering a few days later, is the concept of identity.

First, Evey, the first girl that we see V rescue. He takes her back to his home (lair? headquarters? whatever), and throughout the book, she becomes his accomplice, of sorts. They experience a separation when she no longer wants to be involved with V’s plans, but then, in the end, she once again subscribes to V’s ideals and eventually takes his place after he is killed.

Her name, though, Evey, alludes to Eve, the first woman in the Bible, Adam’s companion. In fact, her name is Eve, which she calls herself infrequently. More often, she adds the -y to the end, a derivational ending that implies, perhaps, innocence and youth. In the fascist world in which they live, V is trying, in a twisted way, to save the citizens of England from the political slavery they are enduring. Eve is his hope for future reconstruction, his legacy, the one to even assume his identity after V is gone.

We also have an Adam–Adam Susan, the fascist leader of England. In this tale, Adam and Eve are not on the same team.

Then, of course, in regards to identity, we have V. This is an assumed identity, named for the room in which he was held in a concentration camp (the Roman numeral V). It really frustrated me at first that we never find out who V really is. I wanted desperately to know–was he Evey’s father? A high official in the fascist regime? Why could we not know? The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that we never could know V’s true identity. V was a constructed identity, borne out of the torture from the concentration camp, the vicious, mind-altering drugs that were pumped into his body (the drugs that killed everyone else involved in the experiment). V is who this person became–whoever he was before ceased to exist. Knowing the face behind the mask would give us readers no knowledge or power. We must accept V is a construction, with a brand-new identity.

This constructed identity, in fact, is what makes it so easy for Evey to step forward after V’s death. She then becomes V. Without knowing his original identity, it is easier for her to don the mask and take his place, to continue his plan of terrorizing England in hopes of destroying fascism. And because no one else knows who V really is, as well (he’s killed them all off–or driven them insane–at this point), then no one has to know that the original V is dead (if he is indeed the original–who’s to say he didn’t assume the identity from some predecessor?).

Beyond identity, this graphic novel also explores the idea of freedom. The first quote from Adam Susan reveals that fascism took hold in England because the leaders believed that freedom only leads to tragedy–poverty, death. They could only see the negative effects of freedom. V, on the other hand, believes “justice is meaningless without freedom.” Enslaving the citizens means that justice is a null concept. When people have no free will, no choice, then we have removed any concept of right and wrong. When people are not free to choose, then we cannot exact justice. We cannot discipline and lead them in the right direction. We can only punish again and again, as if they are no more than brainless lab rats.

The worst part about the fascist regime is, perhaps, that weak, fallible humans are the ones mandating what is right or wrong. And they screwed it up. Badly.

While reading, I definitely felt like this book had an empty, God-less feel. But God is not absent. I won’t make the argument of V being a Christ-figure (because it could really be argued either way). But in exploring the idea of freedom, one can’t help but draw correlations to slavery and freedom in the biblical sense. If Christians are enslaved by the law–by a set of rules (do this, don’t do that) supposedly governing our faith–then we cannot be fully free in Christ. And I think the enslavement of the British citizens–the hopeless, empty lives they lead under the fascist regime–is a good depiction of not fulling accepting that Christ is the only method of salvation.

Another good image that comes out of the book is this: when V hacks the equipment and turns off all the video feeds across the country, people experience a measure of freedom that they had not seen in years. And a girl on a bicycle stands below one of the malfunctioning cameras and spraypaints “Bolucs” (misspelled, of course) onto the pavement. She then leaves V’s signature mark on the wall. She embraces the freedom to question authority, and even to misspell a word. Did she use that freedom in an appropriate way? Perhaps not. Still, she was free in that moment.

* * *

I really enjoyed this graphic novel. Watchmen is still my favorite, but this one was really engrossing and thought-provoking, as well. I’m eager to see the film now–I’ve been waiting until I finished the book.

On a side note, my mom called me a comic book nerd after I launched into an elaborate explanation of comic books vs. graphic novels and a long-winded summary of the book. I fear she might be a little bit right.

We’re the problem, we’re the politicians.

Yes, I’m from South Carolina. Yes, I’m writing a blog with the word “politicians” in the title today. I’ll give you one guess what it’s about.

Yesterday, our governor arrived back in the States from a trip to Argentina. He then held a press conference, openly admitting to an affair with a woman who lives in Argentina.

Go to any news site, and you can find details of the whole sordid affair. I won’t bother summarizing here. I’ll just give you some quick thoughts.

First, I am not a Mark Sanford fan. I disagree with him politically on many points. But my political opinions have no place here. This issue is mostly with his personal life. I think it’s important to make that distinction. (I agree that a politician really has no personal life, as he or she will constantly be in the public eye. My point is merely that I’m not discussing his political agenda here.) The only thing that really has a political connection is that he disappeared for a few days without telling his lt. governor or anyone else where he is. A governor should not disappear like that; he has a responsibility to his constituents to be here. Moving on.

I watched the press conference yesterday. Within moments, my respect for Gov. Sanford increased greatly. The man apologized for letting down his wife, his kids, his friends, and the people of our state. I believed him. I dislike the man, and I have a tendency to criticize him, but when he choked up and had to wipe away his tears during the press conference, I truly felt his sorrow and grief at the pain he’s caused so many people.

The man is human. He reeks of humanity, in fact. He made a terrible mistake–one that many, many others have made. He just happened to make that mistake while living in the public eye. He deserves our forgiveness just like anyone else. Are we so uptight, so judgmental as to demand perfection from an imperfect creature? If that’s the case, then we shall indeed become bitter cynics–everyone will let us down, and we will be so blinded as to focus only on another’s vices rather than virtues. (For example: during the press conference, several women standing behind the governor openly smirked throughout the entire press conference. How could they possibly openly rejoice in scandal and tragedy? )

Gov. Sanford deserves to be allowed to put his marriage back together. He deserves to seek forgiveness from his family, friends, and South Carolinians. I can give him that. And–shockingly, perhaps–after some thought, I don’t believe he should resign. This is a trangression of a personal nature, one that he openly admitted to before anyone discovered the true nature of his visit. Yes, he lied about his whereabouts, which is the only reason I see for punishing him politically. Perhaps that’s enough to call for his resignation, but I disagree.

We’re all human. Let’s rejoice in that, love one another, and not feel trimphant in the face of another’s tragedy.

Quiet and Intense

Earlier this evening, I went to the Bird & Baby, our local philosophy club/awesome place to hang out for a lecture on C.S. Lewis from a man studying to be a priest who received his Ph.D. in C.S. Lewis from Oxford and was president of the Lewis club there. The speech was on Lewis’ Abolition of Man, which I read several years ago; the lecture was indeed quite fascinating. Hopefully, the audio recording will be online soon, and I’ll link to it for those of you who might want to listen, but for now, I’m just gonna talk about one comment that Deacon Andrew discussed in his lecture.

He was discussing objective beauty and truth and Lewis’ idea that we need to teach children to feel, to sense the objective beauty that is innate in everything. Lewis believed that everything has an objective beauty and truth attached and each object or person or situation deserves a certain manner of awe. We cannot react to a waterfall in the same way that we react a drop of rain. There is a certain beauty that each entity merits, but the quality of that beauty cannot be the same. God did not design each of those situations to be the same.

Deacon Andrew discussed Lewis’ idea that the ability to feel must be taught. He mentioned that today’s youth are often anesthetized to such feelings. Teenagers must have extreme experiences to feel anything these days: the loudest music, an intense movie on a huge screen, 80,000 screaming fans in a stadium.

That last one got me thinking. At 24, I’m just barely past the age to which Deacon Andrew was referring. And 80,000 screaming fans in a stadium immediately brought to mind the Muse/U2 concert that I’m so looking forward to in October. On a smaller scale, what about recently? I’ve been to four shows in the past month, two in the past few days, and the intensity and excitement always overwhelm me. In fact, this morning at work, my co-workers asked me about my birthday, and I briefly detailed the events of the past few days. I spent most of my time, however, talking about meeting Jon Foreman after the Fiction Family show or the incredible show that The Fray put on Saturday night. I am quite guilty of getting so wrapped up in the music I listen to, in experiencing the shows I attend, in (dare I say it?) worshiping my favorite musicians that those moments tend to become the experiences I focus on. It doesn’t come without a price, however. I spent both Friday and Sunday exhausted after those shows, knowing I needed desperately to do homework but just wanting to sleep. Those bursts of energy I get when hearing my favorite songs sung live are quickly followed by stretches of exhaustion and wondering what the next big thing is going to be.

Fortunately, I know I’m not enslaved to this mindset. As I sat here thinking about this topic, I realized that I have plenty of moments where I find beauty in the small things in life, and that energizes me. Check out my list of the best days of my life–many of them do involve concerts and musicians. But many more involve my best friends, just hanging out, enjoying simple things in life. And as I think back over this past week, I know that those simple moments are the ones that are going to last. Yes, I have an awesome profile picture on Facebook of me with Jon Foreman. Yes, I swooned over Isaac Slade playing the piano.

But more than that?

I had frozen yogurt from this great little place downtown–actual dessert that’s low in sugar and won’t kill me!

I got to take my brother to Falls Park and feel his awe as he saw the waterfall and walked across the bridge for the first time. He’s enamored with Greenville now; he thinks the city is beautiful, and I know he’ll be back to visit.

Chris and I made tacos and cookies and hummus before we went to Asheville for the show Thursday night; hanging out with him in my kitchen is something I’ve seriously missed since he moved home at the beginning of the summer.

Squeezed in between homework and birthdays and concerts, Harvin and I managed to watch a few episodes of Angel. Yes, it’s just a TV show. But for us, it’s this thing we’re sharing right now; watching the show gives us something to look forward to, something to share, something to continually reference and joke about to the annoyance of everyone around us. It’s a best friend thing.

And those moments are going to be the lasting memories, side-by-side with singing along to my favorite Jon Foreman song and screaming when Isaac Slade climbed on his piano. Those beautiful, everyday moments possess a different kind of transcendental beauty and power that encompass my everyday life. When those euphoric moments fade, I’m left with the quiet, gentle moments where I can feel God’s presence and experience real beauty and truth. The goal has to be finding that balance, and giving each situation the response that it deserves.

The Proof

A few images from Thursday night’s Fiction Family show, thanks to my good friend (and wonderful photographer) Jess Leister:

Sara Watkins, Jon Foreman, and Sean Watkins

Jon Foreman

That’s me. With Jon Foreman. Yep.

#32: Actually speak to Jon Foreman.

I love every bit of music that Jon Foreman has anything to do with. Seriously. So when I discovered that Fiction Family would be playing the Grey Eagle in Asheville–the day after my birthday, no less–I was super excited (which pretty much goes without saying, right?).

The show was wonderful. Sara Watkins (sister to Fiction Family co-founder Sean and fellow member of Nickel Creek) opened, and she did a fantastic job. And as her set neared its end, the rest of the band slowly joined her on stage–the drummer and bass player, then Sean Watkins, and finally Jon Foreman for the last song.

Side note: we sat on the far left side of the audience, about three rows back from the stage–I had a perfect view of the profiles of all the band members, and the stage was only a few feet away. Also only a few feet away? The door backstage. The door through which Jon Foreman came. The door next to which he stood (mere feet from my chair) when he wasn’t playing.

Okay…back to the show…

I really love the Fiction Family album, and they’re even better live. The venue is small, which lent itself to a more informal mood and allowed Jon Foreman to talk to individual people in the crowd–not me, but some people were lucky. The music was INCREDIBLE, of course. And Fiction Family covered Jon Foreman’s “Resurrect Me,” which they have recorded, but Jon also sang two other of his solo songs–”Behind Your Eyes” and “Your Love is Strong,” which is my favorite song from the seasonal EPs. Admittedly, there were tears in my eyes. So wonderful.

After the show, we chatted with Tim and Betsy Hendrix (Tim is a huge Nickel Creek fan, so he brought Betsy mostly to hear Sara open for Fiction Family). Then I bought a FF t-shirt, of course. Then I stood with Jess, Harvin, and Chris and admittedly lost it a little bit when Jon Foreman walked into the room.

Then Jess stood in line with me as we waited to get pictures, and I actually spoke to Jon Foreman this time. Not a long conversation, and I certainly said nothing brilliant, but he shook my hand and asked my name, and I told him the show was amazing and asked for a picture. MUCH BETTER than the last time I met Jon Foreman outside the Bi-Lo Center in November 2007, when I couldn’t even open my mouth to say “Hello” or “Thank you.” Improvement was all I was really looking for.

I know I’m ridiculous and fanatical. I know he’s just a musician, and I shouldn’t get so excited. But it’s Jon Foreman–the man who wrote the lyrics to most of my favorite songs, the frontman to the only band I don’t think I could live without anymore. He’s amazing, the music is incredible, and he’s a really swell guy. I’m glad I have a decent photo now, and I’m glad that I’ve improved enough not to be rendered completely speechless in his presence anymore.

And, of course, I’m glad to have marked something else off my List.

The Sea of Trolls

“It was a world of loss far more terrible than the songs of vanished Utgard. It was more devastating than the destruction of Gizur Thumb-Crusher’s village. It was Everything Gone. The voices of the Norns whispered about the passing of all that was bright and brave and beautiful. You could only watch it die. You could only go down to defeat and darkness. [ . . . ]

It came to Jack that they were not pawns in a game that only led to destruction. The Norn’s way was not the only one. There was the Bard sitting under a tree in the Islands of the Blessed. There was the sad-eyed woman Olaf had slain during the storm. She surely was on her way to Heaven with her lost daughter. And Mother believed, though she hid this from Father, that souls returned with the sun to be born anew into the world.

I serve the life force, Jack thought.”

* * *

It’s 793 A.D., and Jack is an 11-year-old apprentice to a Bard when his village is plundered by Northmen (or Vikings). Jack and his younger sister, Lucy, are kidnapped by the Northmen, and subsequently brought into a fantastic adventure. Jack must learn to rely on the lessons the Bard taught him in order to save himself and Lucy. He must learn to tap into the magic of the life force he serves, and he must also believe in himself enough to be the hero of his own life.

The passage above comes pretty late in the novel, as Jack is attempting to find Mimir’s Well and drink the song-mead contained within. He will then be able to reverse some accidental magic he invoked upon the wicked queen of the Northemen’s land, and save his sister Lucy from her fate as a sacrifice to Freya. The passage is beautiful in its structure and parallelism, but it also brings up an interesting conflict in the novel: who controls fate? Are the trolls right in protecting their land and casting a vicious, deadly winter on any human who gets too close to their lands? Are the Norns right in controlling who gets to drink from Mimir’s Well? Is the life force that Jack serves the one, true Being controlling everything, or are there multiple gods and realities?

These are excellent questions, and I would love to be able to teach this in a classroom and have my students debate these questions. I think it’s great when a book can be entertaining and humorous, but also leave the reader pondering philosophy and reality. I also learned a lot about Norse mythology–Yggdrasil, Valhalla, Thor, Odin, and others play pretty major roles in the plot.

Another cool thing about this book? I picked it up during the second week of summer school–the week we began studying Old English in HEL. This book occurs during that time period. I read about the Viking invasions and the influence of the Northmen on the English language, and the very next day, I began reading a novel about Viking conquests. I could read some of the Saxon language that the characters spoke because of my class. I knew who the real Ivar the Boneless was after reading about it in my textbook. It’s so cool when a book I’m reading for fun is actually relevant to something I’m studying in school.

Anyway, The Sea of Trolls is an excellent, adventurous novel. It’s gripping and humorous, and truly literature written for young adults. This is the second novel I’m read that she’s written (the other one being The House of the Scorpion), and I highly recommend both of them to you if you’re looking for great writing and thought-provoking literature.