One of the things that keeps occurring to me is that I really wish this was written by someone who could string scenes together. The first three paragraphs in the proper hands could have added depth and interest to the characters he is talking about. It could have been a few pages of establishing the odd world Percy is now in, who the chick is, give us a grander scale of what Percy does or doesn’t know. It could have been so much better, in depth but no, quick flash, quick flash keep moving forward and assume it all fits together by sheer willpower. As someone who has the writing impulse it kinda offends me that he isn’t doing more with what he has. Also as someone who has a problem stringing together scenes myself I can entirely recognize that problem in someone else’s writing and man does Rick Riordan has this problem.
On a positive note, I do like the opening line of this chapter though. Something about seems both absurd and profound in a huh way that speaks to better writing than what we get. Or it is everyone occasionally gets lucky. The jury is still out on that. After the Girl asks a question she is replaced as watcher by Argos. Which is interesting and because he is dead in Myth. This brings us to another rant of mine, that I let it slip during the minotaur showing up thing as he was a monster and a commonly represented monster in modern Fantasy (Taurans) that I tend to give up on because damn it I can’t really bother to get incensed at everything. But Argos isn’t one of those, though he does tend to be used as a title or a reference, and thus a better point to pull out my Soap Box.
Modern genre fiction authors have an odd relationship with Myth. Argos is Dead there is whole thing about his death, the peacock and Hera honoring his memory. But in modern fiction there is an odd wanting to have your cake and eat it too. Myth obviously didn’t happen (Argos is alive) but Myth is also static in that everyone ever mentioned is obviously still around and available for your own personal messing with regardless of how their myth turned out.
I find this particular tendency distressing as it inherently cheapens the actual historical religious and cultural significance that these figures possessed in their own framework. When these legitimate Cult (and lets remember we don’t mean Cult in the current modern sense) and State religious figures are striped of all gravitas and context and turned into racial architypes, which is most common in todays fantasy settings, we lose something important to our own history and development. As this pertains to our current character of Argos in that by adding him with no explanations reinforces the fictionality we project on to ancient religious beliefs and I happen to find that very objectional and also slightly, if unexplainably, detrimental to both us and them.
*steps off of soap box*
*has thought and steps back on it*
So… Fantasy is pretty much Mythological FanFic, yeah? I mean the Father of Fantasy, Tolkien was doing a mash up of the Eddas and some Germanic epics. Remind me to come back to this at some point.
*off of soap box*
Back to Percy, who awakens, comments on his surrounding then after a few sentences mentions he is sitting up on a porch as though that was a normal thing to wake up to. I would think there would be a bit more panic on the AHHH why am in a chair? How did I get here? Type stuff. He describes the porch and the tall drink of apple juice right next to him in surprising detail. He almost drops the glass he is so weak, but someone warns him about it and it turns out to be a still alive Grover.
Grover is grateful for the not being dead, went back and grabbed the still bloody minotaur horn to give as a present to Percy. Who asks after his mom. Grover says nothing which Percy means that she is dead… which I am just not buying for some reason. I have no reason not to believe she is dead other than a sad suspicion that she is far to handy a McGuffin or psychological lever on Percy for her to be dead. I just don’t have enough faith in Our Dear Author to actually do that.
Grover then says “I’m the worst Satyr in the world!”
Yes, you are dude.
Like in a hard way.
You aren’t drunk or Debauching. You haven’t even gotten up to some solid cavorting….
OH MY GODS!
They are gonna paint Satyrs as an Angelic equivalent aren’t they!?!
*hyperventilates and strongly wishes I hadn’t given up smoking yesterday*
*having a hate mint isn’t the same*
Ten Mins Later against my better judgment and fully aware of my lack of nicotine I pick up the book again.
Okay so Grover’s shoe falls off to reveal a hoof and some Styrofoam (three tries to try to spell that) And Percy gets this really incredibly odd round of condescension towards Grover I do not approve of. Percy tells Grover he isn’t going to hit him… which brings up so many MORE QUEASTIONS about their relationship and what a jack-ass Percy may or may not be. On a personal note reminds me that I got to play with a heavy bag today and it was AWESOME!
Anyway Grover announces he is a Keeper… So many bad puns, so little time. Then Percy almost falls over and Grover gives him some of the Nectar because Yeah that is what it is. He was expectation Apple Juice and got St. Mom’s Delicious Blue Cookies instead. At some point I might have to work out where THIS particular twist of myth was developed. Grover says that is pretty much all he can have as it makes the Percy feel great and probably makes him more noticeable which at the very least he has decided is better than Percy dropping dead. Grover then announces that they are gonna go meet Mr. D and Chiron. Then we get a scene break.
I want Mr. D to not be Dionysus. Mostly because I am offended on his behalf for that nick name. He is a fucking God, and an Olympian to Boot. Show some respect. It’s not like Dionysus is that LONG a name either, let’s agree that pissing off the ancient and powerful god of Mind Fuckery who has been shown to take disrespect a smidge personally is on the whole a bad idea. Or at least pretend. For My Sake. And doubly so for Satyrs who are creatures of Dionysus and get down with the killing, raping and eating (not always in that order) of those their sworn lord says to. The only god more associated with Satyrs than Dionysus is Pan. But in most of the myths I have read/looked at/researched Satyrs become the loyal unswerving minions of Dionysus who just happen to look like Pan.
Going to stop here as there is another 14 pages to this chapter and I can feel the aura of irritation coming from the next section.