"""
"[…] Wanting a man got me into awful troubles more than once. But wanting to get married, never! No, no. None of that for me."
"Why not?" Tenar demanded.
Taken aback, Moss said simply, "Why, what man'd marry a witch?" And then, with a sidelong chewing motion of her jaw, like a sheep shifting its cud, “And what witch’d marry a man?"
They split rushes.
"What's wrong with men?" Tenar inquired cautiously.
As cautiously, lowering her voice, Moss replied, "I don't know, my dearie. I’ve thought on it. Often I’ve thought on it. The best I can say it is like this. A man’s in his skin, see, like a nut in its shell." She held up her long, bent, wet fingers as if holding a walnut. “It’s hard and strong, that shell, and it’s all full of him. Full of grand man-meat, man-self. And that’s all. That’s all there is. It’s all him and nothing else, inside."
Tenar pondered awhile and finally asked, "But if he's a wizard—"
"Then it's all his power, inside. His power’s himself, see. That’s how it is with him. And that’s all. When his power goes, he’s gone. Empty." She cracked the unseen walnut and tossed the shells away. “Nothing."
"And a woman, then?"
"Oh, well, dearie, a woman's a different thing entirely. Who knows where a woman begins and ends? Listen, mistress, I have roots, I have roots deeper than this island. Deeper than the sea, older than the raising of the lands. I go back into the dark." Moss’s eyes shone with a weird brightness in their red rims and her voice sang like an instrument. “I go back into the dark! Before the moon I was. No one knows, no one knows, no one can say what I am, what a woman is, a woman of power, a woman’s power, deeper than the roots of trees, deeper than the roots of islands, older than the Making, older than the moon. Who dares ask questions of the dark? Who’ll ask the dark its name?"
"""
(Ursula K. Le Guin, Tehanu)
Nice gimmick with the shop window animating the stories as they're told, and it liking the simple story of Belinda saving a single life.
Not really clear if the Barber here is a story writer or a story collector. He seems to want credit as though he wrote them but also to not have a name to credit them to, and to have weaved some kinda story collecting machine. He surely can't take credit for all human stories? It was a beautiful machine: a story tree that's also a brain with a heart in it.
I find myself sympathetic with the aims of this barber anyway. Yes, do kill all the gods. Great plan! Lets do it.
I play this song from Julian Cope, Psychedelic Odin, in which he swears to undertake a holy task set by a group of River Nixes: Kill all the gods for us, oh do it well.
So I like a story teller killing gods, I don't really want his plans thwarted! Join him Doctor! Kill al
l the gods!
Beautiful big space spider, weaving all the stories into it's web. Not sure why it's there though. Seems like just outer-space with no spider would have done,
Always like the callbacks with all the prior doctor's faces too. His story is truely one of the most epic. Only Coronation Street has him beat for length 😆
This whole season is great.
#tv #watching #doctorWho
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