Elend and Vin for flightyclouds! I had a lot of fun drawing this, hope you like it. :)
werewolf Lavender Brown is everything
- when she’s being treated in St. Mungo’s right after her attack, a healer tells her she’s lucky to be alive and she says “I am a were” and the healer just glares and is like “how are you a real person”
- at first, she wears a lot of makeup and tries a lot of spells to make her scars less noticeable. As she gets older, she starts to think of them with a certain sort of pride because she’s so strong and she’s survived war and monsters and lived to tell about it
- she has to plan dates avoiding full moons, and amuses herself by coming up with colorful excuses for why she can’t go out on certain nights (“I’m starting an indie rock band with a house elf and we have practice that night” “I’m prepping for the next triwizard tournament. They won’t care if I’m too old once they see my sick moves”)
- she does a ton of research in old spellbooks and everyone’s like “wow Lav you’re really hitting the books these days aren’t you” but mostly it’s because she wants to find a spell so that when she transforms, her outfits don’t get messed up and torn by morning
- she calls herself “a dog person” all the time and thinks it’s really funny
#she ends every floo conversation with Parvati with some horrible werewolf pun#and parvati is 110% done with it #like how the hell can there be so many lycanthropy puns #it turns out george weasley has been supplying her with them#because obvs he’s going to take the mickey out of bill as much as possible #he does have to do twice the pranking and joking now
And eventually Parvati gets tired of floo conversations, and bad puns at a distance, and Lavender complaining about how difficult it is to keep coming up with excuses for avoiding dates around the full moon, and the lack of progress with the research on the dress issue…
Because Parvati had been listening patiently, and sounding supportive but not saying a lot, because she’s got an wizardly internship in another country and she can’t come back yet, and even with Apparating that sort of thing never really works out well. So she stays Lavender’s understanding friend, until she just gets tired of waiting for Lavender to figure it all out, tired of making excuses, and hits the books herself, just in case.
Eventually Parvati just finds the spell herself, and sends it to her.
Then waits a day or two, for the owl to get there, and Lavender calls her up on floo, like usual, and Parvati lets her gets half-way through talking excitedly about the dress issue, and how she might actually be able to make a breakfast date after the full moon, because she’ll have some dec…
And Parvati just blurts out “You know I think you’re beautiful, don’t you? I always have and that hasn’t changed a bit, and you’d never have to make excuses to me, not ever.”
There’s silence on the other end, and a shocked face that disappears, and the fire goes out abruptly, and Parvati sits back, sure that she’s completely blown it, certain that everything is ruined.
Then there’s a faint pop of someone Apparating into the room, and a hand of her shoulder spinning her around, and suddenly everything is perfect.
the “hamlet spoilers” tag is a gem
I get personally offended when people talk shit about cats, especially when it’s about how cats are never excited when they see their owners after a long time apart
You know, just because they don’t have to bark and jump on you and sometimes pee on the floor it doesn’t mean they’re not happy
Digital Illustrations by Artem Cheboha
Russian based CGI artist and painter Artem Cheboha creates beautiful illustrations.
everybody seems to think ravenclaw is a quiet place to read but i quite disagree
i mean maybe the fact that it’s so light and airy is because they need to be able to open the windows when jack blows something up while experimenting with charms in the corner
and the prefects always have their hands full because fights regularly break out over the fact that ‘post hoc ergo propter hoc is not a legitimate argument, diana!’ and ‘i can’t believe you think dorabella’s star maps are more accurate than mine! what kind of friend are you?’
and then of course there’s the divide between the ravenclaws that revere the old schools of learning and the brash new-world-new-rules ravenclaws that say ‘fuck you!’ to all magical conventions. and man, those prank wars are dangerous (especially when professor flitwick not only fails to stop them, but decides to join in on the fun)
i mean come on it’s a house of knowledge seekers that probably love to argue and theorize and experiment and have a certain amount of pride in their intelligence. things never go smoothly when you’ve got approximately 80 people all trying to be the smartest person in the room
#that’s not to say they don’t admire and respect each other#or enjoy working together because all ravenclaws are different#and some really really love being right#and some delight in being proved wrong because changing your worldview is ever so EXCITING#there is a certain amount of ego involved in considering yourself a genius#and there’s a certain amount of disdain for genius that exists in those that ‘humbly’#proclaim themselves truthseekers#and then there are those that proclaim that there IS NO TRUTH#i mean come on ravenclaw is a mess let’s all face it
So, I’ve mentioned before that Marietta Edgecombe’s treatment in HP bothers me, and gotten several inbox messages basically asking “Why does it bug you so much?” This answer is probably long-overdue, and like everything I write, will likely be just plain long.
What happened to Marietta again?
Marietta Edgecombe was Cho Chang’s best friend, who Cho cajoled into joining the DA. Marietta’s mother, Madam Edgecombe, worked for the Fudge Ministry, and the knowledge that they were disobeying the Ministry to follow Harry (who Marietta distrusted) eventually got to Marietta, who informed Umbridge about the DA. That allowed the Inquisitorial Squad to break up a DA meeting, capture Harry, and almost force Harry’s expulsion - and it did lead to Dumbledore’s departure from the school.
However, Hermione had jinxed the parchment that DA members had signed when they joined up, and when Marietta broke their code of silence, a jinx came into effect: large purple pustules spelling out “SNEAK” covered Marietta’s face. Those pustules faded a little with time, but permanently disfigured her face: after getting out of the hospital wing, she wears a balaclava for the rest of OotP, and the marks are still vislble even under a thick layer of makeup in HBP.
Marietta is not seen in DH, but in 2007 when JKR was asked about what happened to Marietta and if the scars ever went away, she answered that it faded a little eventually, but still left scars, and punctuated that with “I loathe a traitor!" That implies that Marietta was left permanently scarred by the experience - and not only that, but demonstrates JKR’s explicit approval of the scarring: the perma-scarring is an authorial decision that reflects JKR’s dislike for Marietta and basically holds up the punishment as right and just, something that the author applauds - and that, by extension, we should applaud as well.
JKR and Traitors
I do think that betrayal - particularly betrayal of our heroes - is something that JKR loathes; this may be a part of why Gryffs often try to aggregate Hufflepuff loyalty onto their House traits, because JKR the consummate Gryff values it so highly and deals so harshly with the traitor characters. Characters who are traitors - specifically who betray the heroes of the series - aren’t afforded the sort of moral complexity given to other characters; they’re indelibly marked as bad, not afforded the sympathy given to other complex characters (including those who have betrayed evil characters: Snape is vastly better-developed than Pettigrew, and fandom at large far more sympathetic to the former than the latter.) Pettigrew betrays the Marauders, and is afforded little character development, less real role in the plot, and shunted aside quickly with an unsatisfactory death in DH; Marietta betrays the DA, is permanently scarred, and is generally never afford the sympathy or complexity that she deserves.
Speaking as the grandaughter of immigrants, as the daughter of working-class people (all of whom had piles and piles of books), as somebody who grew up poor, and who has been broke on and off for most of her adult life, who has worked as a secretary and a customer service rep…
…speaking as somebody who drives a car that’s old enough to drive itself…
…speaking as somebody who didn’t have the money to finish college…
…I call bullshit on this.
Books can be bought second-hand, inexpensively. They can be got at thrift stores, for crying out loud, and all you need to enjoy them is a place to sit and enough light to read by. Books are re-usable and storable. You can buy them when you have a little money and keep them for later.
And they give us something to do on the bus.
For those of us who do ride or who have ridden a lot of buses.
They are, in terms of dollars per hour, the cheapest way to educate, solace, or entertain yourself.
I have a lot of books because they are cheap, not because they are expensive.
ETA: I agree with some of the points that the OP is making about the potential for elitism and pretentiousness in framing, but the quoted segment above is elitist nonsense in its own right. Only the middle class is intellectually curious?
Warning: Scott unexpectedly blows his top a bit.
Oh, my. Where to even begin…
S.E. Smith’s piece is written with something resembling good intentions, but it’s predicated on a recontextualization of the act of book ownership that is ludicrous and insulting. It also features a defining-down of the term “upper middle class” that would be pretty breathtaking even without the rest of the junk surrounding it, but I’m not even going to really dwell on that. Let’s talk a little bit about the economics of books.
The mass-market paperback is an industrial artifact that strikes us as a bit out of place these days, not so much a fish that has smoothly evolved to walk on land but a fish that flops about after its water has receded, fighting to stay alive. The MMPB, which only truly came into being during and after World War II, was mass in a way that most of us barely comprehend in 2013 because its former sales spaces have been killed off in a process lasting more than thirty years. These things used to be bloody everywhere… every grocery store, every pharmacy, every newsstand, every gas station, every department store. The ubiquitous MMPB significantly pre-dates the era of specialized national chain book retailers (like B. Dalton, Waldenbooks, Borders, B&N, themselves now slain or transmuted by shifting commercial landscapes). The main point is, there was a time when exposure to the chance to buy cheap paperbacks was 100% integrated into the experience of going out to buy any of the other necessities of life. The rudimentary book aisles at Wal-Mart and other surviving ‘big box’ stores in 2013 are simply not analogous; not in their depth of selection, not in their price points, not in their physical accessibility.
Return to the phrase “cheap paperbacks.” This too is critical. The MMPB was meant to be inexpensive and disposable. It was meant to attract impulse buyers. It wasn’t meant to be printed on acid-free archival paper and passed down as an heirloom for generations to come. It was banged out cheaply to be sold cheaply… or pulped if it didn’t sell quickly enough.
These books were not status symbols of the “upper middle class.” They were dirt-cheap popular entertainment for all social classes, and all social classes were tempted by racks of the things nearly every time they entered a retail establishment. Remember that… these days the book aisle at Wal-Mart is a place you seek out on your own initiative. Forty years ago, cheap books were something the store would have tried to sell to you at multiple points, in the places you find now DVDs and candy bars and cut-rate video games. Cheap books WERE the DVDs and cut-rate video games of forty years ago.
Now, grandpa isn’t here to lament that time has moved on, kids. Grandpa likes DVDs and video games quite a bit. Grandpa just wants you to remember that books were targeted for sale to everybody, everywhere, and were not doled out of vaults at country clubs.
We also need to talk about those magic places called used book stores, where even high-quality editions were (and are!) available at prices so low they make the fresh MMPB on a supermarket rack seem like it’s printed on sheets of iridium. I grew up in the 1980s on a steady diet of visits (thanks, mom!) to the land of the dime book, the quarter book, and the fifty-cent book. Reference books might run a dollar. Library discard sales were similar treasure hunts; so many potential hours of entertainment and education compressed into such a tiny price tag! I’m not even talking about the other major haunt of my youth, the public library, because I think it’s sufficient for my point to focus solely on book experiences that came directly out of the wallet.
This was not, and is not, a necessarily expensive hobby. This was not, and is not, some sort of elitist fucking class marker of the indolent and narcissistic.
"Owning large quantities of books," "being familiar with them," and "frequently referring to them" aren’t symptoms of elitism. They were, and are, and ought to be ASPIRATIONAL SYMPTOMS OF BASELINE LITERACY AND CULTURAL APPRECIATION. Social crusaders in every age of our modern world have understood that functional literacy is part of the very BEDROCK of building and empowering a population to be something other than terrified serfs. Literacy is a common weapon and books are common treasures. Trying to re-frame the act of building a personal library as shameful posturing for the rich and privileged is bullshit. It’s anti-intellectual concern trolling predicated on the flabbergasting notion that the poor don’t have an interest in books or what they represent. It’s no fucking different than the depraved right-wing notion that the poor can’t “really” be poor if they have such luxuries as refrigerators and running tap water available to them.
|—||Neil Degrasse Tyson (via renegadeshroom)|