The Clothes-scape of Cold Magic

My daughter forwarded this link to me because, she said, it reminded her of Cold Magic, and it totally does!**

Even though I had never before heard of this awesome textile artist Yinka Shonibare.

So very Wow. Check it out.



**(in certain specific ways although not in all ways -- those of you who have read the early draft will know what I'm talking about)

ADDED ***(nojojojo's smart and cogent comments below remind me that I ought to have explicitly mentioned as part of the original post that Shonibare is among other things making a very sophisticated critique of colonialism, and I'm doing something very different, in so far as I'm doing anything at all. But, gosh, it's so fabulous on so many levels.)

Paris! And also: Bragelonne & Milady

Recently my spouse, hereafter to be known as J, and I flew halfway around the world to West Africa, specifically, Mali and Burkina Faso. More on that another time.

Meanwhile, we spent 4 days in Paris, in January (wow, was it cold), because 1) we had to change planes there anyway, 2) neither of us had ever visited Paris, and 3) as it happened and entirely coincidentally (I think), the wonderful French publisher Bragelonne was launching my novel King's Dragon in a French edition with their imprint Milady. (How I wish I spoke and read French!)

More on the publisher later.

As for Paris: who knew Parisians were so friendly? J and I took the train from CDG airport into the heart of the Left Bank, seeking a hotel recommended to us by ellenkushner at which we had made reservations. We staggered (much jet-lagged and hauling our not too commodious luggage) some ways down a main drag. No sooner had we paused at an intersection seeking the correct way to turn then a Polite and Friendly Person stopped to help us. Even walked us a short way in the direction we needed to go. What? I remember thinking. Is this Tokyo or something? (a similar thing happened to us in Tokyo, when a nice couple stopped to help us and actually turned around and walked us back the way they had come to show us where our hotel was)

Relatives who live in Switzerland were waiting at the hotel, and we spent the weekend with them seeing the sights. They had been to Paris before. It was bitterly cold (did I mention that?) but quite lovely, although I admit I would like to see Paris in a warmer time.

What struck me most about Paris was what a lived-in city it is. While there are old buildings and an aura of history and monuments and the Louvre and all that, it is a city where people really live. I know, I know: that sounds kind of dumb and obvious--aren't all cities lived in?--but there did seem to me something uniquely (yes, yes, I know all cities are unique; just bear with me) Parisian about Paris's lived-in-ed-ness. You know, forex, I really love London; I love to visit London, see the sights in London, explore London. But although naturally we did go around to see the sights in Paris, I felt like Paris was more properly a city one hung out in.

We did spend a couple of hours in the Louvre (it's big)(and, look! It's the Winged Victory of Samothrace!). We went inside Notre Dame (a fine cathedral). I was charmed by the blocky and sentimental over-the-top monumentalism of the Pantheon. We saw a fabulous exhibit of King Arthur cycle related manuscripts at the National Museum, and an interesting if somewhat limited exhibit at a branch of the Louvre on Teotihuacan (had to go to that because J's academic specialty is Mesoamerican archaeology).

And I gotta say, the Eiffel Tower is purely cool.

But mostly: what a lot of fabulous vistas and intriguing places to walk and interesting architecture. All that, and I appreciated the city DESPITE the awful cold. Which means it really was quite lovely.

Whoops. This got long.

More on Bragelonne, Milady, Jasper Kent, and Le Dragon du Roi tomorrow.