Larry's Angels: Larry reads Angelology

[Larry of the Lawn]

imploding? if the interior of his body is less than atmospheric pressure I wouldn't have thought that a leather harness would have helped much

The harness I guess keeps him from hunching over and having his lungs collapse? Maybe it pulls his shoulders/wing stumps back to maximize lung capacity? Do angels have lungs?

So, our divine wingéd guardian angels are basically just really boring upper-class socialites?? :stunned: I guess that makes all those angel-carvings in the convent the equivalent of Hello! magazine. And the whole "sekrit race of angels hidden for millennia" thing rather collapses when there's a bunch of them just hanging out in Manhattan with all their magnificent wings. With media moguls no less! Obviously these moguls are so honourable that they would never think of breaking this awesome scoop for a quick buck. Or is it trying to imply that the world is actually run by an angel conspiracy and that these are our Evil Overlords?

They are really boring -- it took 16 pages for Grigori to walk into his pad and show his mom the mail.

My bad -- it was implied that the media moguls are angels of some kind. So yeah, we've got ourselves a secret cabal of evil angel overlords. If I remember correctly, the angels try not to flaunt their wings in public, although...

Indeed, has there been any mention whether muggles can see the wings?

She mentions that later in the book if I recall. This is where it gets exciting, because only trained angelologists can see the wings. Duh.

Or maybe they're aspiring to become immortal angels? If that's even possible. :unsure:

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that the angels we've met so far have some human blood in their ancestry, so they aren't immortal. In a flashback coming up I believe we meet some pure-blood angels. I'm pretty sure they laid with human females way back in the day to spawn the Grigori-type angels and all their underlings, so fear ye not Blackbear, you'll be getting some strapping male angels on the horizon.

And Lummel has the right of it, Rupert can be felled by a lowly but plucky variety of mildew.

[Regina]

I am so happy that we now have you AND Datepalm providing us with this entertainment. You are both truly doing a public service. Bravo!

So--about the book--wing porn, eh? If we don't get an eventual sex scene--complete with detailed descriptions of wings quivering with excitement--I will be VERY disappointed. :leer:

[Gigei]

Angelology is actually a real thing, in old medieval times and such.

You beat me to it. I read the whole book. Don't know what all the fuss and hype was about. What's weird is that, if I recall correctly, there wasn't a whole lot of Angelology in the book at all. They didn't even mention the Enochian/angelic language, what kind of Angelologists are they? It's just like the vampire books that don't have any vampire lore in them.

[Datepalm]

You beat me to it. I read the whole book. Don't know what all the fuss and hype was about. What's weird is that, if I recall correctly, there wasn't a whole lot of Angelology in the book at all. They didn't even mention the Enochian/angelic language, what kind of Angelologists are they? It's just like the vampire books that don't have any vampire lore in them.

Like with the vampires, it makes me wonder what, like, storytelling or character function this is really serving.

*Goes back to figuring what ":Cajun" mean.*

[Larry of the Lawn]

Like with the vampires, it makes me wonder what, like, storytelling or character function this is really serving.

*Goes back to figuring what ":Cajun" mean.*

There's the real connection here - The history of the Cajuns is described in the Longfellow poem "Evangeline" - of the same name as our protagonist.

[Winter's Knight]

Like with the vampires, it makes me wonder what, like, storytelling or character function this is really serving.

*Goes back to figuring what ":Cajun" mean.*

It pleases me greatly that I am in a position to enlighten Datepalm. :D

Cajuns are an ethnic group mainly living in the U.S. state of Louisiana, consisting of the descendants of Acadian exiles (French-speakers from Acadia in what are now the Canadian Maritimes). Today, the Cajuns make up a significant portion of south Louisiana's population, and have exerted an enormous impact on the state's culture

[Datepalm]

lol, yeah, but what does it contribute to a story to make a character fairly randomly Cajun? Basically, it's the perennial question of all Romance novel anthropology - why are Cajuns sexy? Why are vampires/angels/sheikhs/highlanders/dukes/Italian millionaires/blank sexy?

[Alytha]

Maybe Lestat and Louis are to blame for that...being Cajun AND vampires. And sexy. (ok, Tom Cruise in the movie not so much)

[Lummel]

the attraction of exogamy presumably. (assuming the reader isn't cajun, a sheikh, vampire, highlander etc)

Maybe Lestat and Louis are to blame for that...being Cajun AND vampires. And sexy. (ok, Tom Cruise in the movie not so much)

Wouldn't Tom Cruise need a horrible amount of spicing up and slow cooking to make him cajun?

[Winter's Knight]

lol, yeah, but what does it contribute to a story to make a character fairly randomly Cajun? Basically, it's the perennial question of all Romance novel anthropology - why are Cajuns sexy? Why are vampires/angels/sheikhs/highlanders/dukes/Italian millionaires/blank sexy?

They're exotic, cherie. And since they're exotic, they don't have to play by our rules-a trope that is doubly true when applied to vampires, noble savages and sheikhs: the first is a predator and can't help himself, the second represents raw human desire untouched by society's constraints and the third is civilised enough to sit at the dinnertable and form an intellectual connection while being removed enough from western societal mores to sympathetically display good old-fashioned domination.

Basically, the chances of one actually meeting a sheikh or a vampire or an angel are exceedingly slim and this creates the distance required for the standard romance tropes (dub-con sex, stalking, "I like to watch you sleep") to go from "Holy shit this is creepy" to "Wow, that's hot".

[Alytha]

the attraction of exogamy presumably. (assuming the reader isn't cajun, a sheikh, vampire, highlander etc)

Wouldn't Tom Cruise need a horrible amount of spicing up and slow cooking to make him cajun?

Argh, yes. Creole and cajun is not the same thing. Sorry. Terrible day. ;)

[Lummel]

Argh, yes. Creole and cajun is not the same thing. Sorry. Terrible day. ;)

No, no, you're quite right cajuns are people too, I was just trying to play on the idea of what would have have to be done to that fairly clean cut and boring actor for him to fit the stereotype, just another shabby joke on my part ;)

[Larry of the Lawn]

I would pay good money to see Tom Cruise try to be Cajun. I'm thinking along the lines of a couple rounds of hurricanes...

[Alytha]

I'd almost pay money not to have to see Tom Cruise at all, but that's beside the point here ;)

More wing-pron, pretty please? :bowdown:

[Datepalm]

They're exotic, cherie. And since they're exotic, they don't have to play by our rules-a trope that is doubly true when applied to vampires, noble savages and sheikhs: the first is a predator and can't help himself, the second represents raw human desire untouched by society's constraints and the third is civilised enough to sit at the dinnertable and form an intellectual connection while being removed enough from western societal mores to sympathetically display good old-fashioned domination.

Basically, the chances of one actually meeting a sheikh or a vampire or an angel are exceedingly slim and this creates the distance required for the standard romance tropes (dub-con sex, stalking, "I like to watch you sleep") to go from "Holy shit this is creepy" to "Wow, that's hot".

I have met Sheikhs. I have long, stupid bereaucratic email conversations with Sheikhs at work sometimes. This may be my tragedy.

Anyway, right, yes, that makes total sense. So the question is, what are Angels doing? How does that work? What function do they fulfill? (My theory is that it's something to do with purity and duty, or something, but really not sure here.) And then, what is the point of having a vampire or angel or a Shiekh who displays no classic Vampiric/angelic/sheikhly qualities at all? This is what baffles.

[Larry of the Lawn]

I have met Sheikhs. I have long, stupid bereaucratic email conversations with Sheikhs at work sometimes. This may be my tragedy.

Anyway, right, yes, that makes total sense. So the question is, what are Angels doing? How does that work? What function do they fulfill? (My theory is that it's something to do with purity and duty, or something, but really not sure here.) And then, what is the point of having a vampire or angel or a Shiekh who displays no classic Vampiric/angelic/sheikhly qualities at all? This is what baffles.

Yeah, it's more like a costume or something than anything else...

[Larry of the Lawn]

Okay, so back at St. Rose....

Verlaine arrives in his old beaten up 1989 Renault. This is all still happening the same day as his meeting with Grigori, the same day Evangeline torched her letter, December 23rd. I wonder if the plot will climax around Christmas? Verlaine-- of course-- takes note of the "Neo-Gothic arches and turrets," which seems about right.

Verlaine's a bit troubled by how Grigori seems to be on the verge of death, and handed him a wad of cash to truck up to the convent on this cold December afternoon.

There was something eerie and disturbing about Grigori, something that Verlaine couldn't quite put his finger upon. Verlaine had a strong sense of intuition about people--he could discern much about a person within minutes of an introduction, and he rarely wavered from his initial impressions. From their first meeting, Grigori had provoked a strong physical reaction in Verlaine, so strong that he felt instantly weakened in Grigori's presence, empty and lifeless, without a trace of warmth.

So Verlaine might dress badly for job interviews, but he's got a sixth sense for the weird.

He arrives at the convent, he's looking at the damned architectural drawings trying to figure out the best way into the library, when it occurs to him that they don't match the actual layout of the convent and church. He's pretty peeved that Percy sent him up here without the proper formalities--such as having permission--and he starts imagining what it'll be like inside.

He imagined that the St. Rose library would be small, quaint, filled with ferns and hideous oil paintings of lambs and children--all the cheesy decor that religious women found charming. he guessed the librarian to be about seventy years old, somber and gnarled, a severe and pasty creature who would hold no appreciation whatsoever for the collection of images she guarded. Beauty and pleasure, the very elements that made life bearable, were surely not to be found at St. Rose Convent. Not that he'd been to a convent before. He came from a long line of agnostics and academics, people who kept their beliefs to themselves, as if speaking of faith would cause it to disappear altogether.

So he's knocking on doors, no one is answering, and he keeps walking along icy stone paths while referencing the infernal architectural drawererings we've heard so much about, noticing how the building's masonry is patched together, the new melded to the old, etc. He's wondering what Grigori would make of it, and generally puttering around like an old nun.

This leads Verlaine to remember how he met Grigori at some auction where Grigori was bidding way over the reserve on a bunch of Rockefeller crap, silver spoons and other junk, and the two of them bonded over the antiques and a passion for studying Abigail Rockefeller. Turns out that she was the subject of Verlaine's Ph.D. dissertation, specifically her involvement with the Museum of Modern Art.

There's literally six pages of a flashback where Verlaine digs through archives for Abigail R. info for Percy; then he manages to stumble back into the present, find an unlocked door into the building (good thing he had those architectural drawings), and bust into the damn convent.

The next chapter starts from Evangeline's POV, she's thinking about how she's the main liaison between visitors and the convent on account of her youth and her modernity (remember, Evangeline and Verlaine are the only characters that we've met under the age of 90). She thinks about the delight she has every time she relays some nun-trivia to the visitors, like how the sisters rock Nikes for their morning walks by the river. I guess these charitable nuns have no problem supporting sweatshop labor?

She's doing her darndest at her librarian duties when all of a sudden she gets her hackles up...

A rustle of movement at the far end of the room had brought the person's intrusion to her attention. Turning, she discovered a young man leaning against a door, gazing at her with unusual interest. A feeling of alarm sharp as electricity shot through her. Tension grew in her temples, a sensation that manifested itself a a blurring in her vision and a slight ringing in her ears. She straightened her posture, unconsciously assuming the role of guardian of the library.

Although she could not say how, Evangeline understood that the man standing at the library door was the very same man whose letter she had read that morning. It was odd that she should recognize Verlaine. She had pictured the author of the letter as a wizened professor, gray-haired and paunchy, whereas the man before her was much younger than she would have guessed him to be.

Evangeline's bull-dog of the library routine is cute, and quickly devolves into some obvious sexual tension between her and Verlaine. It's a lot of Evangeline emphasizing how he shouldn't even be there, but she doesn't actually kick him out, and he knows he shouldn't be there either but doesn't want to leave. They geek out over Abigail Rockefeller for a bit.

Verlaine shows her his fucking architectural drawings we've heard so much about, and asks her about the fire. Yes, he knows about the fire, she knows about the fire, and as Verlaine's trying to cop a look down her habit he notices her golden necklace with the lyre on it, which matches the seal on the architectural shit.

"The lyre," Verlaine said. "Do you see? It's the same?"

Her fingers trembling, Evangeline unfastened the pendant from about her neck and placed it carefully on the paper, the golden chain trailing behind it like the glimmering tail of a meteor. Her mother's necklace was the twin of the golden seal.

From her pocket Evangeline removed the letter that she had found in the archives...

It takes a few more pages of paper shuffling and lyre-glancing for the two of them to put all their cards on the table and start talking about the correspondence between Abigail Rockefeller and Mother Innocenta. Finally, Evangeline breaks down and lets Verlaine into her office, crossing the Rubicon as it were, and shows him the letters written in Abigail's own hand. She gives him some convent stationary to hand-copy the letter onto, so he can take it with him.

"Thanks, Verlaine said, smiling at Evangeline for the first time in their exchange. "You're probably not supposed to help me out like this."

"Actually, I should have called the police the moment I saw you," she said.

Okay, this is getting pretty steamy for a librarian-nun and a Renault-driving researcher that dresses poorly for job interviews. But then again Verlaine isn't exactly Mr. Personality, since this is the first time he smiled at her over the course of their 30 minute conversation... He responds:

"I hope there's some way I can thank you."

"There is," Evangeline said as she ushered Verlaine out the door. "You can leave before you are discovered. And if you are by chance found by one of the sisters, you did not meet me or set foot in this library."

Okay, so now Evangeline has officially gone off the reservation and broken convent protocol to help Verlaine with his research. Sounds pretty dull but this was two chapters of dashes and habits and architectural smorgasbords. I'm going to read the next two or three chapters right now so we can get somewhere, because this was excruciating for having relatively little thread-meat.

So consider this an intermission till we get some more wing-porn... which is coming up in droves, by the way.

[lady narcissa]

And then, what is the point of having a vampire or angel or a Shiekh who displays no classic Vampiric/angelic/sheikhly qualities at all? This is what baffles.

I can speak to my opinion on why this is in romance novels specifically. (Note, Angelology is not a romance novel, its more historical fiction with a sprinkling of fantasy.)

In romance novels in the 1970s and 1980s the romance "hero" was a bit more aggressive and forceful...a total Alpha male dominating personality...than the romance "hero" of romance novels being published today. The earlier novels are nowadays considered politically incorrect and offensive because of how the hero would treat and act towards the heroine. You can't have a human male treating a human female like she is inferior or submissive to him in any way, human females have to be equal to human males in today's romance novels.

But you make the "hero" and angel or vampire and the rules that apply to human male characters do not apply to them. Of course an angel or vampire character who has lived for potentially hundreds or thousands of years is going to feel and act superior to a mere human character who has only been around for 25 years. And readers seem to be willing to accept aggressive "superior" behavior from a non-human hero that they would not tolerate from a human hero.

So I think the dominance in the recent romance novels of non human supernatural characters is merely an attempt to get back the intense emotional relationship struggle and DRAMA you'd have in the earlier romance novels that is no longer politically correct if it involves a human hero. So yes the labels of vampire and angel provide a costume and look for the hero to wear but mainly they provide an acceptable cloak for their behavior and dominance.

[Larry of the Lawn]

By the way, at the end of this thread, we're all in for a treat. I have just discovered--after pouring through the advertisements in the back of Angelology -- a series of questions intended for group discussion of the novel. Maybe if we're all lucky we'll be able to feast on some of them before the conclusion of the book. And remember what

taught us about gas caps and angels....

[Whitestripe]

Oh this is good! Thanks. :)