This chapter, while tedious and angsty (like every other encounter with Warner in this book), contains some metaphors that just...I don't have words for.
"a dress the color of dead forests and tin cans"
"My body is a carnivorous flower, a poisonous houseplant [why would anyone keep one?], a loaded gun with a million triggers [cause that's how guns work, right?] and he's more than ready to fire [oddly true innuendo]."
"2 velvet chairs punched out of a constellation"
My personal favorite: "He's wrong he's so wrong he's more wrong than an upside-down rainbow."
HIGHLIGHTED 714 TIMES REEEEALLY?
This isn't a metaphor but still worth mention: "I don't know what food really is anymore."
Truly a display of the power of misunderstanding of objects, colors, and the human mind.
But moving on; I don't much feel like going over this chapter, so:
Juliette: "You sick goddamn bastard, you don't own me [fantastic song, by the way, wonderful 60s feminism], I still don't know how to life."
Warner: "Damn you fine, will you pretty pretty please kill people for me, I swear you'll like it, I mean just look at me, we're quite similar, you'll see it my way soon."
So yeah. This isn't the first of these, and unfortunately, it won't be the last. They just get kinkier from here.
Next chapter of the Night Circus, GOD WILLING, will be up by Friday.
No comments:
Post a Comment