Jo Walton - Among Others

I wonder if there will be fairies in space? It’s a more possible thought in Clarke’s universe than Heinlein’s somehow, even though Clarke’s engineering seems just as substantial. I wonder if it’s because he’s British? Never mind space, do they even have fairies in America? And if they do, do they all speak Welsh, all over the world?

Letter this morning. I haven’t opened it, and won’t.

In prayers today Deirdre said “resur-esh-kun” instead of “resur-ec-tion” at the end of the Creed. Thinking about that during the hymn, I was wondering about “the resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come,” and how that relates to what I saw on Halloween. On the one hand, how much more likely resurrection if the dead process through the valley and descend into the hill. On the other, where is the religion? Where is Jesus? The fairies were there, but I didn’t see any saints or anything. I’ve been mouthing the Creed without ever thinking about it properly.

To tell the truth I’ve been pretty angry with God since Mor died: He doesn’t seem to do anything, or to help at all. But I suppose it’s all like magic, you can’t tell if it does anything, or why, not to mention mysterious ways. If I were omnipotent and omnibenevolent I wouldn’t be so damn ineffable. Gramma used to say that you couldn’t tell how things would work out for the best. I used to believe that when she was alive, but then after she died, and Mor died, I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t believe in God, it’s just that I haven’t felt very inclined to get down and worship someone who wants me to think “no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” Because I don’t. I think I ought to do something about the way the universe is unfolding, because there are things that need obvious and immediate attention, like the fact that the Russians and the Americans could blow the world to bits at any moment, and Dutch elm disease, and famine in Africa, not to mention my mother. If I just left the universe for God to unfold, she’d have grabbed a chunk of it last year. And if God’s plan for stopping her involves us and the fairies and Mor dying and me getting mashed up, well, if I were omnipotent and omniscient I think I could have come up with a better one. Lightning bolts never go out of fashion.

I was reading The Broken Sword and there are times I think gods like that would be easier to worship. Not to mention they’re more on a human scale. Meddling like that. More like fairies. (What are fairies? Where do they come from?)

But I do not want to give Grampar another stroke, so I continue to go to church and to school prayers and take communion even though I don’t know how it fits together. It’s not something I can imagine talking to a vicar about, somehow.

With fairies it isn’t a matter of faith. They’re right there. They might not take any notice of you, but they’re right there where you can argue with them. And they know a lot about magic and how the world works, and they’re in favour of intervening in things. I could do some magic. I can think of all sorts of things that would be useful. I could make a better dream-ward. And I’d really like a karass.

Seven books waiting for me in the library. I wonder what happens if there are more than eight? The woman librarian was there today, and she let me fill my own interlibrary loan cards out. If I keep ordering fifty or so books a week, there may well be more than eight on any given Saturday. I wonder if I could get permission to go into town on a week night. Some girls go in for music lessons. Maybe I could start learning an instrument so I could go to the library, though as I am so pathetic at music it might not work. I wonder if there’s any other kind of extracurricular thing they’d let me in for. I could ask Miss Carroll.

I didn’t have any money, but I went down by the bookshop anyway. I’ve discovered the wood across from it is called Poacher’s Wood—it’s on the map—and I went in there to burn the letter I got yesterday. I went a way in, and made a circle. Nobody saw me except a couple of indifferent fairies. I didn’t read the letter either. I didn’t even open it. Because it was only one, and solid like that, I didn’t make a fire, I just set fire to the bottom corner and dropped it. I nearly burned my hair when it caught more quickly than I’d expected, so I won’t try that again.

It was cold but not raining, the first time I’d been outside without it being rainy for ages. I tried sitting on the bench where I read Triton to read Born With the Dead but the wind was too cold. I don’t mind the cold all that much, what I do mind is the way the days are so short. It was getting dark before it was time to go back to school.

I looked around the bookshop and saw some things I want to buy when I have some money again, or if not, order from the library. There’s an adult book by Alan Garner called Red Shift . I wonder what it’s about? It has a weird cover with a standing stone and a light, which doesn’t mean anything. If I tell Daniel I want to buy it, he’ll probably send me some more money, unless that ten pounds was supposed to last me until Christmas. Well, if I tell him I want it and it was supposed to, then he can say that, and I can just order it.

Afterwards, because it was dark but I didn’t want to go back, and I didn’t have money to sit in a cafe pretending to drink tea, I looked around the other shops in town. I went into Woolworths where I pinched a bottle of talc and a Twix. There was a girl called Carrie in the Home who pinched things all the time, and she showed me how to do it. It’s quite easy as long as you keep calm. Nobody pays any attention to me. I wouldn’t take a book though, or rather, I would from Woolworths, if they had any, but I wouldn’t from a bookshop, not unless I was desperate .

I went into C&A and looked at bras. I didn’t try any on. They’re more expensive than I would have thought, and the sizing is very complicated. Auntie Teg would know about them.

In Smiths I saw Gill looking at records. I don’t care about records at all, in fact I associate being interested in pop music with the stuff she was talking about despising, trying to get boys interested in you. But I went to say hello. She was looking at a record called Anarchy in the U.K. by a group called the Sex Pistols. It was a very ugly cover, but I am quite interested in anarchism because of The Dispossessed . I think it would be much fairer to live on Anarres. Gill said we wouldn’t like it because our parents wouldn’t have money and we wouldn’t have advantages. I said everyone would have the same advantages. I didn’t say my family weren’t as rich as everyone else’s anyway. I said why should we have a better education than someone who can’t afford Arlinghurst?

Gill bought the record, though she’s not going to be able to play it until Christmas so I don’t see the point.

On the way back, we talked about Leonardo. Apparently, as well as painting the Mona Lisa, he was a scientist and invented helicopters and studied fossils and kept a notebook. Gill has a book of lives of scientists which she offered to lend me, which is kind of her, though it isn’t at all my thing. She’s a bit—I don’t know. She’s not stupid, which is refreshing, and she’s not afraid to talk to me, but she seems a bit over-eager somehow, which is off-putting. I get the feeling she wants something.

I shared the Twix with Deirdre. I didn’t tell her I pinched it.

I wrote to Grampar. When I next have some money I’ll buy him a get well card. I told him about my marks (boringly top in everything except maths as usual) and about the weather. I wrote to Daniel, mostly about Imperial Earth and The Shockwave Rider , but mentioning the Garner. I wish he’d give me pocket money like most of the girls get, and then I’d know how much I was going to get. I also wrote to Auntie Teg about the bra problem, very carefully not asking for money, in fact saying specifically not to send any, because that wouldn’t be fair, just wanting to know how the sizing works. There’s a number and a letter. I suppose I could ask Deirdre, or even Gill, but I’d rather not.