Yeah – forgot this one. Seconded.
Oh, I’m not saying that the book is better with the Dark Island going bye-bye, instead of just being escaped from as in the pre-1994 American versions. Just that I understand the change.
Narnia cannot and should not be an entirely nice place. And, Dark Island aside, the most frightening moments of DAWN TREADERS are nothing compared to SILVER CHAIR.
True enough. And bad things happen to good people is pretty much the theme of Narnia anyway. My cite is a certain Lion.
More than that. Caspian doesn’t WANT to know. Hell, I don’t want to know. Anybody who actually wants to know is probably nobody you want to be around.
I’ll look for the book this weekend. I know where it’ll be if I still have it, if that makes any sense.
Most David Weber, especially the Honor Harrington series or the Bahzell books. It just cheers me up to read about bad guys being converted into expanding fireballs or chopped to pieces. And he doesn’t go on and on and on about the terrible suffering of the victims of the bad guys, something I find depressing in itself.
When I was a kid, I thought the Green Witch was HAWT. Plus, snakes are awesome.
Again, when I was a kid, I really did want to know, and I always kind of thought that bit was a cop-out, although in retrospect, probably not the sort of thing CSL would have been able to write effectively.
Regarding the OP, I have a special fondness for Neil Gaiman’s four-issue miniseries The Books of Magic, which got me through a bit of a difficult time in the early 1990s. The notion of there being an entire unseen parallel realm of magic coexisting with our mundane world was a welcome idea during a time when I felt a little too mired in the latter.
Rereading Robert McCammon’s Boy’s Life always works for me too, and I probably don’t need to explain why. Oddly enough, Stephen Baxter’s Evolution has recently joined the list as well; I find gonzo far-future extrapolations peculiarly uplifting, I guess.
For some reason, David Brin’s Startide Rising is something I always reach for when I’m physically ill, but I don’t have any good explanation for that.
I think he could have written it. But I also think you misunderstand me, because I was unclear. No one who lived in the same universe, and had nearly been trapped on the Dark Island himself, is going to want to know.
The crew took little convincing – hell, no convincing – to leave as soon as they realized the truth about the place.
(And before anybody says anything, I’m considering Reepicheep a passenger.)
ETA: Also, what are you calling a cop-out? Caspian’s honoring the request, or saying he didn’t want to know. Because, frankly, if Caspian had insisted that Rhoop tell him about his ten years of mind rape, he’d have lost every sympathetic character point he ever had.
Cheerfully ignoring the call for specific titles in the OP, because, hey, I’m Oak, and I do stuff like that, my comfort literature is pretty much the entire genre of men’s action/adventure. Gimme Remo & Chiun, or Mack Bolan, or Hawk Hunter, or Jake Slocum, or Custis Long, or Neal Fargo, or Captain Gringo, or somebody like that. Violence, adventure, lusty women.
Not one book, but a series of books. The Hollows.
There’s just something about a sassy red head in skin tight leathers kicking ass and cracking wise that cheers me up. Add in a bisexual living vamp who turns seductress when her buttons are pushed, a tough as nails warrior pixie, a shapeshifting demon, and an elf with less morals than the demon, and I can’t help but laugh.
Especially when the pixie swears. Apparently Tinkerbell is real in that world, and pixies use her panties and sex toys as swear words.
Oh, I didn’t think it was an “in-story” cop-out; I thought the crews’ reactions were perfectly in-character. Maybe “cop-out” wasn’t the best phrase to use; I was trying to express the feeling of disappointment I had as a ten-year-old horror fan that CSL wasn’t going to tell us anything more about the Dark Island, that’s all.
Gotcha.
I’ll say that, as the stroy is constructed, there’s no way to get that information across, as no one but a sadist is going to want to hear Rhoop’s story. I suppose it would have been possible to have Lucy or Edmund trapped on the island, and someone – presumably Reepicheep, who seems immune to the effect – having to brave the island to get her or him off.
Reep’s imperviousness to fear always bothered me a little. If he genuinely cannot feel fear, then he isn’t really courageous.
We read about that kind of thing in HP Lovecraft all the time.
Sure. And there’s some rough stuff in the Perfesser’s work too, though nothing approaching HP.
Lucky Jim, because it’s so damn funny.
I don’t think enjoying Lovecraft is a reason why you wouldn’t want to be around somebody. At least I hope not. I read Lovecraft. I won’t claim to be normal or well-adjusted, but I don’t think I’m a sadist or a psychopath.
Anne, what I meant in my post above is that anyone IN THE STORY who pestered Lord Rhoop for a recitation of his sufferings is nobody you’d want to be around.
It rather makes me think of how, in a sense, Aslan might not approve of the Narnia stories if they had actually happened, because many of them would be violating his Privacy rule. For instance, if Eustace had ever asked the Great Lion what happened between Him and Jill on the mountaintop, Aslan would say…
well, you know.
Those books are hilarious.
My re-readable comfort books are The Black Jewels Trilogy and any of the other books in that series by Anne Bishop, any of the books in the Valdemar series by Mercedes Lackey, or the Foreigner series by C.J. Cherryh.
When I need to revisit well-known “friends” in glamorous and far-off lands, those are the series that I grab.
Sitting in a Small Screenhouse on a Summer Morning, by James Wright
Last night I paused at the edge of darkness,
And slept with green dew, alone.
I have come a long way, to surrender my shadow
To the shadow of a horse.
Nice thread, Skald. My day has improved already.
Terry Pratchett or the Destroyer series. I’m on book 80 something now. Sinanju Rules!
I have a soft spot for John Ringo for escapist reading, or really almost anything with a pretty girl holding a Big Effin’ Gun on the cover.
Diana Wynne Jones. If I’m having a horrible time I read her, again. My husband got laid off yesterday :(, so I read one of my favorites, The Crown of Dalemark, last night and today. That and Fire and Hemlock count as my big misery-fighting guns, while other volumes are appropriate for lesser ills.
Dandelion Wine.
Because it’s the story of a small midwestern boy in a small midwestern town over the course of one perfect summer (1928).
Especially since that’s the summer that grade schooler Douglas Spaulding discovered that he was alive. And it was all tied up with the way lying in the grass prickled his back, or the feel of a brand new #2 pencil, or the pleasant pain of carrying heavy laden buckets of berries out of the woods while the handles creased the insides of his hands.
“Never has a child’s experience of innocent living been so perfectly, passionately illustrated” – an Amazon reader.
Like Douglas, I just knew that I’d never run as fast, or jump as effortlessly, as the summer I finally saved up for that pair of red P.F. Flyers. And I just knew I’d never understand the needless complexity of the grown-ups’ problems.
…
Oh, and though it’s Ray Bradbury, you won’t find any robots, or martians … or bad writing.