I’m giving the page a second section because page 1 was starting to behave oddly.
As always, wait at least 30 days from issue of the book before starting to discuss. And give our overseas friends some extra leeway: the distribution system doesn’t reach everywhere as fast!
Sleo,
I too find myself at moments laughing out load at some comment or simply an eyebrow raise by Jago or Banichi. Others (real world companions) look at me like “so what’s so funny?”, only I can’t begin to describe the intricacies of Human-Atevi relations let alone Atevi-Atevi ones. then having to describe to humor found in those intersections of culture. I just chuckle and think ” poor you, who have no clue about this wonderful world i inhabit every time a new book comes out”.
Sapphire,
Geigi as scientist, Yes it does make some sense and can explain his behaviour much better than conspirator. Besides, the world is becoming smaller for everyone, they will need space just to get some elbow room. This puts Geigi in prime position to become the Governor the Station or even of Space based Properties. Maybe his vision of power is even more far reaching than Tabini’s. Just a nugget to chew on.
I believe that the more adventurous Atevi will be very interested in moving upward and outward since the advent of cell technologies is going to make the planet even smaller yet. Bren will have no choice but to allow the phones onto the mainland, they will get smuggled in by the pirates of the west coast anyway. I see chaos but also great opportunities in the unfolding of the future events that are rocketing towards our friends.
The logic of Machigi supporting Tabini is so clear that I find myself waiting for some machimi drama, relating to the mysterious operations of man’chi, to kick in, just to keep “the pot boiling.” Man’chi is instinct in many ways, and is less subject to logic and enlightened self-interest than we humans might know. Bren learned something about the instinct level of man’chi in Foreigner, while riding mechieti. Bren learned that one mechieta is the acknowledged leader, and the rest follow. The more aggressive mechieta, like Bren’s Nokhada, scuffle and raise hell trying to remain established close to the leader. And the number two mechieta doesn’t want to share that spot.
Could Machigi then become a rival for second spot with Cajieri?
Tabini and Illisidi don’t seem to feel man’chi toward each other, just an agreement to support one another in mutual self-interest, yes? Both are aiji. Is Machigi capable of man’chi i.e. is he capable of instinctive attachment to Tabini? Or would it always be a matter of agreement to associate?
What do aiji “feel” about each other? (Hint hint, CJ!)I include Cajeiri in this question, since it was said about him that aiji go off in their own direction and don’t follow others.
My favorite books in the series (so far) are Explorer, Invader, Defender and Precursor in that order. Interface with an Other–atevi, ship humans, kyo–is a major subject of these books, and that’s the subject I find most engaging in science fiction.
Yes, the spider plants are great touch! I also think that the atevi custom of presenting flowers is a great cultural touch–a detail that adds verisimilitude to the story. I found the scene when the atevi servants all lined up to present a flower to Jase when they thought his father had died (Inheritor) very moving.
Then there is the business with Bren presenting beribboned souvenir cards to atevi tourists. These scenes make the atevi appealing. It’s nice to be reminded that atevi are more than dire Guild and dangerous politicians. These scenes add a nice dimension to Bren’s character, too–he’s so sincere about this duty.
There’s the question Rigeldeneb, Does Machigi “feel” like an Aiji or is he merely aspiring to the role? Caleiri is a natural leader who has several powerful examples to draw his lessons from to hone his skills. Caleiri has already has experiences that develop his world view as one that encompasses not only the mainland association (and all of the political turmoil that entails) but also the Island of Mospheria, the Station, and the Kyo. He has contacts and associates in each of them. Machigi has a limited world view and limited contemporary technology experience, as well as having pissing off most of the western association with his past antics. I feel that he has a long way to go to get to where even Caleiri is in knowledge and experience. I believe that Tabini is farsighted enough to see the value of Machigi in his ranks and will absorbing him into the fold much like has has with Bren despite the strong opposition to his decision by others in the association.
I too find the level of intricate detail about everyday life among the characters to be a refreshing addition to the story. i find that in the end these little details are what give me the ability to feel like i am there, experiencing the events along with them. I still feel heartbroken over his stained glass window.
Rigeldeneb & Wepox: some very accurate insights there, with which I largely agree. Very good comparison between Atevi and mechieti behaviour – there’s always a strong leader in a herd, with one or two particularly strong followers.
With regard to Machigi/Cajeri, I don’t think they would become rivals. They might, in fact, get on rather well, Machigi being quite young and certainly independent-minded himself.
Might that somewhat startled-looking little primate-like creature at the forefront of the new jacket even have been a gift from Machigi to Cajeri? Great expression on its face, by the way. It appears as though it has been startled at being captured in the picture (up to no good, I’m sure), and is looking directly at the reader. I also like the expression on Bren’s face, and the fact that he is looking at us, almost as though he is communicating something. He looks slightly amused, even mischievous…
I too like the customs and manners of the Atevi and the detailed way in which they are expressed in the books. Such refinements are sadly lacking in our society today.
The destruction of the stained glass was indeed sad, and awaits its reconstruction.
One suspects that after a generation or three of Lords of Heaven have occupied Najida, the stained glass will be accorded the same historicity and respect as Atageini porcelain lilies.
One is somewhat surprised that finesse was absent in the vicinity of something clearly artistic and fragile — but then again, with the actors being rogue Guild who mine roads and kidnap children, one supposes all bets are off anyway! Lord Bren needs to make clear to all and sundry that he regards the stained glass as highly as the Atageini do their lilies.
Sapphire,
I too thought that we are losing ourselves to the alter of technologies. we are tweeting, facebooking, emailing, blogging, texting but not communicating. The simple act of giving a card to someone is gone, writing a simple thank you letter to show appreciation for a gift or kindness given, history. I think it went out with wax seals. i was the product of my grandmothers upbringing, she was born in the late 1800 and i was given a deep respect for everything she held dear. I can appreciate Caleiri’s relationship to Ilisidi as i was in the same position for my childhood as well. While she did not have a cane, my ear was very sore for the majority of my childhood and adolescence.
I give small gifts to those that do me favors and kindnesses out of the goodness of their hearts to thank them in a special manner. unfortunately do to the dearth of such behaviours in the world today it does become a “special” act. I think it is sad to have to look to an alien culture to find this civilized behaviour that was once so common in our own.
Too true, Wepox. I actually remember my great-grandmother, who was a head of the household type of figure (a bit like the dowager, in fact). She was very stern, wore to-the-floor black dresses (I think they were something like taffeta) and black or white lace collars, always carried a cane, and wore her very long, beautiful silk-like white hair up in a plait wound around her head. I was in awe of her. My grandmother, too, was something of a lady, but not as stern.
The thing is, my siblings and I had a huge respect for people of those generations, who lived with us virtually to the end. We were also interested in their stories and experiences, which were rich and full, though sometimes also very traumatic and sad. My brother and I would sit at the table when my grandparents were entertaining friends, and would listen intently to these stories – there was certainly no question of running around, shouting, or bringing attention to ourselves in such company.
Such relationships between the generations are not that much in evidence in the society in which I live at present. Perhaps as people have become wealthier (though they certainly don’t think so), and each generation has been able to acquire property for itself, families have become fragmented and the generations don’t understand each other anymore.
I’m not sure why manners have deteriorated so badly, and there is such a lack of politeness, though perhaps I romanticize the past too much (in fact after reading stories about the history of the East End of London, I’m sure I do).
Atevi society keeps itself together so well because of its manners and mores, which act as restraining factors…
“Manners are the lubricant of society” was what Emily Post used to say, and i find it to be true. Winston Churchill and Lady Astor were very civil to one another despite their very public and abject hatred of one another. My Grandmother would say if you cannot like someone at least be polite to them, it doesn’t cost you anything and it will serve to confuse them. I have actually made fast friends of adversaries by just being polite to them despite their behaviours towards me. My father was always saying, “the madder you are the more polite you should be” he never thought anyone should know how much they affect him. Being polite despite being upset is a sign of great control and strength, it allows one to be “adult” when others are being childish and petulant. and our world is being very childish and petulant these days.
the past was very much a grim and hard place to be. However, even the worst of the worst said ma’am and sir, It was Miss this, and Mister that. Nowadays, cursing is commonplace, rude behaviours are par for the course and no one extends a courtesy to anyone.
I find the need to have the simple acts in Atevi society followed through on very refreshing, no business at dinner, a simple tea to calm the nerves before any major discussion no matter how urgent. Exchanging small gifts and courtesies to mark entrances and departures or as mementos of a visit.
Our western “civilization” has a great deal to remember about being civil. “those that forget the past, are doomed to repeat it.” we forget our manners and someone is going to take offense, and we will be at war with someone over some slight given or received, all because we cannot remember what we were taught in kindergarden: Be nice, share, play with others, say thank you and please.
there has always been a rough edge to society where manners are despised and force and bad language has ruled. just we see it all the time on tv, and the young copy it. I used to live in a big northern city in the UK, and was horrified at the prevalence of spitting amongst little kids. they copy it from the footballers! who spit because they are running around and breathing hard and can’t always swallow, also it’s part of that “hard man” image. when you see a little girl of about 8 doing it it’s quite a shock. and I always hated to see little boys with shaved heads. also hard man image. I think our footballers have stopped it now, but it looks so aggressive. now I live in the country where the working classes were completely downtrodden by the landowners. people are quieter, but the old ‘uns have a sharp and wry humour. there is no farm work any more, and the old country people who lived very tough lives for little pay are a dying breed. we have townies with lots of money buying up the cottages for second homes. most shocking person round here is a tart old lady in her late 80’s from London/Essex who fights for her independence by being extremely rude to all and sundry!
purplejulian: from my experience (in the UK) rural areas tend to be quite different from cities. Among the locals – who worked on the land and sometimes still do – there is much more of a sense of community, which I believe to have been the case even when people lived in abject poverty compared to today.
We have a family cottage in the wilds of Herefordshire, a spectacularly beautiful county (it is far from major population centres like London, and thus quite isolated). On one side of the cottage there are old woods, on the other a sheep farm. This is managed by one farmer and his wife, and does not employ anyone else – apart from the working sheepdogs, which the farmer controls by means of whistles. Both he and other locals are quite gentle and very polite. There are migrants from London in the county, who form their own communities and employ people who would in the past be working on the land. You do get the odd eccentric among them, like your elderly lady – but I actually admire gutsy ‘salt of the earth’ people like that. In general, though, manners and mores there are good – you certainly don’t see things like children spitting or running around and making nuisances of themselves because their parents allow them to run wild.
In cities, though, behaviour among the poor was often truly shocking – probably due to their extreme poverty, lack of education and the hardship of their lives, though there were also people who retained remarkable dignity in the most brutal of situations. (Read a book called Silvertown, for example, which contains recollections about life in London’s East End.) Wealthier families – those who controlled society – certainly had manners and were generally polite, but the veneer sometimes (though not always) concealed a viper’s nest. In any case, manners and superficial politeness resulted in them being able to function with each other, even if they did not particularly like one another.
Wepox: I’m in total agreement with your father. It actually makes one feel quite superior if one does not respond to ‘bad’ behaviour.
I was just thinking about the Atevi custom of drinking tea when a guest comes to discuss important issues, bad news, etc. It is something that calms both parties, and allows them to interact in a polite way, instead of having an eruption. Without such controls on behaviour, Atevi society would have torn itself apart long ago.
in rural Norfolk where I live, one of the two farms in the village employed 12 men full-time in the days when a ploughman with 2 horses ploughed an acre a day, walking 11 miles in the process. not a hugely enormous farm either. 30 people lived in a row of 4 small cottages. the local toffs kept everyone in order and there is a strong remembrance of the working classes being very downtrodden – but you are quite right, there was a sense of community and sharing in those days, when there was no state welfare except the workhouse. the last generation to have experienced that kind of life, who were children during WW2, are fading out now – strokes rendered one of our most important village members speechless and helpless last year, and her husband is not making sense any more.
but we do keep our community going, as best we can, with get-togethers in the ramshackle wood and iron village hall (I’m a member of the committee – we need to raise a hell of a lot of money to fix it) but there are very few young families, jobs are few and far between, or seasonal, the village is tiny, and idyllic, and only 5 miles from the coast – we are being invaded by London barristers and the like.
we do have a strong local interest in the past, one family can trace itself back further than the civil war, same name, same village, and not aristocrats – thanks to the bureaucrats who enforced the recording of births and deaths in every church! and we put on slide shows where our remaining natives (one sharp old lady is 101) call out the names of the cricket teams of the 1920’s and 30’s.
as to rural manners – norfolk people could be surly and sly and unfriendly. isolated and kept down by the gentry they were and still can be suspicious of strangers, and their dialect difficult to understand.
purplejohn: I’m really quite surprised that Herefordshire people are so friendly – they positively welcome ‘foreigners’, perhaps because these keep the area going. You would expect them to be rather fiercely insular, the area being on the Welsh borders, where a lot of conflicts between the English and Welsh took place in the past. Perhaps I just haven’t seen that side of them? My sister-in-law has also established very good local connections, even basing one of her novels on the local church and the cottage, and I think the locals really appreciate that.
It is sad, though, that things like hay-gathering festivities, which involved the entire community, no longer take place (there is a beautiful old hay wain in the garden centre down the lane, sadly in a big shed and in a decrepit state, but a poignant reminder of days gone by). There are also lovely little village schools and post offices that have been taken over by ‘foreigner’ second-home buyers or perhaps retirees. That’s always sad to see, since it signifies to me that these buildings represent communities that are now lost. Still, that is progress (or is it, in fact, regression?).
Anyway, not much relevance to Foreigner, though the books do make me think about such things…
My grandparents were born and raised in Norfolk, Nana in Great Ellingham and Grandpa in Attleborough. Their families have been in that area at least as far back as the late 1700’s (that’s as far as I’ve got) and later still if you take another branch of the family. We can’t quite connect the 2 branches together even though my first cousin and a distant cousin of the other line have been trying to do this for about 20 years. They’re both convinced that they have a common ancestor, but no proof.
And did you know that FamilySearch has the parish registers, archdeacon’s transcripts and bishop’s transcripts online as images? There’s also some non-conformist registers, poor law union minutes, rolls of electors and monumental inscriptions.
Won’t find us on the monuments. We are what is described as “Ag Lab” on the 1841 census.
P.S. What IS that horrible octopoid thing to the left of my name?
[That, Sapphire, is a Gravatar. If you wish, you can substitute a picture of your own choosing. You need a Gravatar ‘account,’ —ie, go to gravatar.com and just sign up, and the same avatar will follow you to all our sites on WordPress.]
You don’t necessarily think of village life in Oklahoma, but my great-grandfather settled just outside what became Anadarko, Oklahoma, in a deal with the Kiowa tribe, which my grandfather, who was his partner, honored, having meetings on his creekside, etc. Another man, Kiowa, settled as a farmer next to him, and then there were several other families which had ricocheted from defunct settlements in the area and rather well clustered there, with land round about, and houses somewhat within riding distance (horseback.) They worked cattle with horses, had cattle, pigs, chickens, and crops. At hog-butchering time, in October, one family would host everybody for a big barbecue, and put away the hams in a smokeshed, while everyone partied, and canned food, and traded food, and danced and talked; the next weekend, someone else would host and provide the meat, and the whole neighborhood would help him put up his hams and bacon, and can, and smoke, and such, sharing porkchops and the like; and the weekend after that, on to the next, so that once it started, it was non-stop until all the designated hogs were done for, everyone had a full smokeshed, canned goods had been traded so everybody had jams and peaches and relishes and beets and green beans for the winter. When my mother died, I inherited a tiny parcel of land, which had been custom-farmed (meaning they do the work and buy the seed and pay land-rent proportional to the crop that results) by this one man from my grandmother’s time. At my mother’s funeral I promised the man I would not sell that land and that he would go on with the agreement as long as he can possibly do it. I couldn’t do otherwise. It’s part of something as rooted in history as roots go, in a state that only began in 1907.
The Chandlers and the Palmers were neighbors all through the Dustbowl and all of it—Chandler’s bull was notorious for fence-jumping, and sired calves up and down the creek. As kids, we played with the Palmer kids. And the community’s getting thin, now, but there’s a new batch of my cousin’s kids on my gran’s place, and the same neighbors have kids, so I guess it’s carrying on in the age of cellphones—instead of a party line that rang in every house in the area, one ring for the Chandlers, two for the Palmers and so on… Things change. But when you’ve lived side by side for a hundred years, (let alone since the English Civil Wars) it’s a different sense of neighborhood than you get in a constantly changing city.
CJ: I’m not sure whether I have time to settle the Gravatar business, so may have to go with the octopod – thanks, anyway, for letting me know.
That’s an interesting insight into your family history. I was thinking that things may be a little different in North America than they are in the UK. The US is vast, with a huge amount of space compared to the UK, so there is still a chance for small traditional communities to survive. The UK is very cramped by comparison, and in addition imports a lot of goods, including food, which it should be producing locally in my view. The entire economic set-up is, in fact, really not beneficial for many people here, resulting in relatively high unemployment particularly in areas that used to be responsible for manufacturing and the production of food.
As an example, the cathedral city of Hereford itself, in Herefordshire, today looks extremely impoverished, with a general air of seediness and gangs of youths hanging around with seemingly nothing to do. Certain government actions could help improve this situation, but they would be considered not politically correct and thus not vote winning. Meanwhile, a generation or two (not to mention its offspring) has been wasted…
It could have been worse, Sapphire — the randomly-assigned default gravatar I got was a purple heart-shaped thing with dramatic feminine red lips and high heels. o_O Not my style at all! That drove me to immediately sign up.
Don’t settle for ugly, simply because it’s not horrific. Just sign up for gravatar with the same email you used here, upload a pic you like, and that’s that. It takes a bit of time to propagate through teh interwebz but after that, it’s fine. And that picture will apply to any gravatar-using website/forum that you use said email address to join!
sounds wonderful CJ. that is what Independence was for! to get away from the rule of church and crown and estate in this country! Hooray for your independent-minded redoubtable ancestors!
I am just writing this up for our local magazine – these people are leaving the village and it’s rather sad.
On Sunday 26th June David and Ann Ramm put on a wonderful exhibition of photographs, newspaper articles, and their enormous family tree printed out and pinned along the wall, in Bale Village Hall. Many Ramm family members attended, some of whom had not met for forty years, from the two-year-old Lucas Hubert Ramm, to David’s Aunt Daisy Gilbert (neé Ramm, who will be 100 on the 28th Dec 2011), the village was invited, there were refreshments, and a slide show of village life over the last 150 years by Philip West.
Thomas Ramm of Bale, born in 1669, married in Gunthorpe in 1715, died in Bale in 1760, is the earliest Ramm ancestor confirmed so far, David Ramm’s great-times-seven-grandfather (ten generations back). There are two more generations before that which have not been completely checked. From Thomas there is a direct line of Ramms living in Bale for almost 350 years. Other old Bale families enter into this equation: Bennells, Prestons and Spooners married in and out. Amongst the big families that stretched along the wall on sheets of A3 paper, the names of brothers and sisters who emigrated, moved to Sheffield, Peterborough, Norwich, and other parts, all Ramms, conjured up images of another era, of community and sharing and hard physical work, echoed in the faces looking down at us from all those photographs.
ooops – some of who, or some of whom, and why? 😀
of whom. 😉 ‘Of’ is a preposition, and its object is ‘whom’, as ‘of him, of her, of it, of them, of whom, of which.’ The relative pronoun (who, or, in the case of neuters, which) behaves like any other pronoun, except for its ‘connective’ ability. Inside its own clause (relative clause) it functions with complete freedom as a pronoun. It does not borrow case (inflexion) from its antecedent (the word it connects to in the greater sentence.) 😉 [I spent 10 years teaching Latin grammar.]
My own family has some roots in Herefordshire, Norfolk, Hartfordshire, Devon (a lot), Shropshire, Yorkshire, Gloucestershire, and almost every shire in England—my maternal grandfather’s were in Deventer, in Holland; and my paternal grandmother, Irish—A large parcel of them came over from Devon to join a Quaker colony in Pennsylvania, but immediately had a feud with the Quakers over an unapproved marriage and headed south to the Carolinas. Another lot were living in New Amsterdam and Jersey through the treaty that ended the Dutch-British war (and handed New Amsterdam to the British) until those relatives had a feud with their own family and headed south to Tennessee. I can only think that I am descended from a number of people with a temper. The timing of emigrations suggests a lot of elements of my family were, as we say, ‘getting out of Dodge’, ie, running from trouble in England, in their case, the English Civil Wars, during those times when the Puritans were in the ascendant. Definitely the Puritans and the Quakers were at bitter odds—which is also why my Quaker ancestors dodged ashore fast and headed for Pennsylvania: the Puritans had the northeastern coastal towns. But the Puritans could get no hold in the Carolinas and the Virginias, which was where all the anti-Puritans tended to gather. I had one pair of relatives who apparently were Puritan, and resident in Salem, but set out for the Carolinas right ahead of the witch trials. Whatever their reason, I love to speculate.
thank you! very kind. of whom seemed right but I couldn’t think why, despite having studied latin for A-level about 100 years ago! 😀
If anyone is still in a grammatical state of mind –
who’s or whose?
Mercy, all this family history is interesting. My own only goes back to sometime in the 1800’s when my mother’s family migrated from eastern US to Indiana via the Ohio river. One notorious reprobate, known as Old Finn Emmons, married and fathered many children. And that’s all I know of my mother’s family. My father’s history is even dimmer, as he and mother divorced when I was a baby (scandalous in the ’40’s). I do know his own mother died in childbirth delivering a baby girl who was ‘adopted out’ — all the boys being kept and then raised by my father’s stepmother. I grew up with my stepfather as father. After my own divorce after 27 years of marriage, I played with what last name to take, considering my birth name, but my mother raised such a row that I finally took my own name — one that ‘felt’ right to me and have kept it since — over 20 years.
So I’m somewhat in awe of all this family history. I could tell many funny and wild tales of the individuals I do know about, but that is hardly Foreigner related…. Certainly ‘manners’ aren’t something I was raised with other than please and thank you. Any manners I have now have come from other sources and as I grow old, I’ve shed many as irrelevant to a curmudgeonly old woman. I find I relate quite a lot to Ilisidi!
whose, I should think, but bow to other’s superior knowledge
Who’s on first? (the old comedy routine. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sShMA85pv8M ) Whose ball is it? Who’s = who is. Whose = ‘to whom does it belong?’
😀 – good timins.
‘Who’s’ is a contraction for ‘who is’, so which ‘who’ to use depends on the context.
*timing.
Never give up on finding relatives. My paternal grandmother died in the 1930’s and no one ever spoke of her, but I finally found her this year—not who she married after my grandfather, but I’m convinced I’ve got her, and finally her father, and grandfather, and great-great, back to Ireland.
Now—–back to the regularly scheduled program, Foreigner Spoilers, part 2, and we will haul our genealogy over to the Genealogy thread! [I’m so bad. People get to discussing sleuthing down the relatives and I get all excited.]
Me too …