I have no idea where to put this but I want to node it so badly, and I've asked around, shopped for opinions. We'll see how it does. If you have suggestions for this; msg me with your darlings and I'll field test it.
Books to read in the bath: Avoid waterdamage at all costs.
American Gods, Neil Gaiman. Although I'd read this anywhere I could, under fire from Amazonian guerilla freedom fighters or in a convent. But it's a book about primordialism, and what is more primordial than nudity and water?
Memoirs of a Geisha, Arthur Golden. The number of times water is mentioned in the first part of Suyeiko's life, just her first two years alone....surrounding yourself with that aspect of her personality. And look down to the crux of your legs and think to yourself, 'Am I worth more than the sum of that?'
The Way of the Wolf, by L. David Mech. Such a definitive guide, and it has a sonic breakdown of a howl, where to pitch your voice and what these yips mean, and this is the perfect time to duck your head under the water and hear the harmonics of your own, perfect, howl.
Strangers in Paradise, by Terry Moore. If they are anything, they are women, Katchoo and Francine, and there is nothing more womanly than a bath. Different types of bath for both of them, with the bubbles reaching up to your chin if you're feeling kind of Francine, and a good red wine and a weapon nearby if you're being Katchoo. There's a drawing Moore did, of Katchoo in a bathtub, and I just have to say that that is bullshit. Katchoo would treasure her leather jacket, and is far too pragmatic to wear it in the tub.
Somewhere to be Flying, Charles De Lint. Although he's never written it, can you imagine the crow girls taking a bath? Maida and Zia tumbling into the tub together? It'd be an utterly childlike thing, playing with the taps, water sloshed everywhere, all over the floor, bottles emtied, veryvery squeals and giggles.
Lazarus Churchyard, Warren Ellis. Most of it is blood and guts, but there is one thing to give you shivers. Let yourself sink under the water and just say the two words that haunted London's airwaves. "Lucy's drowning". It will make you cold enough to turn the hot water faucet.
Geek Love, Katherine Dunne. Look at your body and think about it's perfections and imperfections. I look at all those raised red lines and instantly feel better when I compare them to, say, a tail. You can, however briefly, underwater, understand what the world looks like from insideArturo the Aqua Boy's tank.
The Princess Bride, William Goldman. This water is the water where the sharks swim, and it is the milk that Buttercup's farm produces. It is the same water that boils through Count Rugen's Machine and simmers over Miracle Max's hearth. It is the sand in the Fire Swamp that you can smother in, and the blood spilt by Inigo's sword. It is all of this, and I am an adventurer when I step from my tub.
Good Fairies, Bad Fairies by Brian Froud. As I soak, I am each one of these. I am the frog queen, with my toes just as graceful, as they grow wrinkled in the water. I am the Sphinx, ruminating over my questions, luminous as my skin glows. I am the Wood Woman, and Little Nell, and a Muryan. I am less than nice, I am Black Annis, and Nicnivin, horrible and queenly and imperious. I am a bogey, a bwbach, a sluagh, a pang. I am, especially, The Fideal, lurking at the edge of a lonely lake, singing my high song with weeds in my mouth and water on my tongue.
The Wake, Neil Gaiman. Oh, alright. So he's on here twice. He's my favorite. But honestly, this is a water book. If you have any soul at all, you will cry. Because Dream was proud and stern and sometimes so stupid and he was ours. Because Delirium's eulogy aches. Because Hob won't have anyone to meet in 98 year's time for a drink. Because Cain needs Abel back so badly, and Fiddler's Green chooses his destiny so absolutely. So you will cry and your tears will slip into the water along the line of your skin, and when they send the bower along the river, you can sink into the water and dissolve into the Dreaming. |
