finns det nån därute som kan svara

There's a sentiment I've ran across quite often when reading the Finnish women's magazines my mom likes to buy: it's a sign of true friendship when, even after you've spend years apart for whatever reason, you're able to continue your friendship like no time has passed when you finally meet each other again.

That's the vibe I'm getting from Cissy and Valancy in this chapter. Instead of faulting Valancy for never visiting her, Cissy just feels happy that she is here now. As a reader, it's hard not to think how much happier both of their lives would have been if they had been able to stay friends all this time... but it seems that Cissy and Valancy know better than to waste time thinking about that and are able to live in the moment instead.

It does make me wonder, though – it seems like Cissy felt a stronger sense of affection towards Valancy than Valancy ever felt towards Cissy, doesn't it? I mean, Cissy still remembers Valancy being sweet to her, and even Roaring Abel was aware enough of Cissy liking Valancy to roast Valancy about it a couple of chapters earlier ("And she used to like you so well"), but we've been told Valancy thinks that she has never had a friend in her life...

As a lover of Swedish musical theatre and historical fiction that no one has heard of, I'm used to absolutely minuscule fandoms. And when it comes to those, it's often a bit of an opposite experience, actually: it can sometimes make me feel slightly desperate when the only other person that's ever posted in the tag focuses on a completely different aspect of the work than I do, or interprets it very differently. Like... isn't it enough that there are only two of us on the entire planet that enjoy this thing, do we also have to disagree about it? The universe truly is a lonely, dark, unloving place.

But in the book club, there are enough of us that picking out different aspects of the text doesn't feel lonely at all – instead, it feels like we're building a puzzle or colouring a picture together.

I'm starting to feel like in the modern day, Uncle James would be some sort of a far right manosphere neopatriarchal grifter.

I mean, him suggesting locking Valancy up again, then making the "splendid concession" that a person who has made missteps in her life just might still be a human being... unfortunately, though it's been a hundred years, the Uncle Jameses of this world are still alive and well and absolutely everywhere.

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"– –and as for the damage it will do my reputation, why, you know I haven’t any matrimonial chances anyhow, so what does it matter?"

Love to see Valancy taking something her family has used against her and using it against them, and in such a perfectly logical manner too. Really, what does it matter?

Let her say fuck, though.

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So, here's a little look into some of my experience with the movie, not quite from the bottom sediment but perhaps from the mesopelagic zone of the soul:

"I remember Grandfather Wansbarra. He was one of the few human beings I have known—almost the only one."

Lately, I have spent quite a lot of time thinking about what knowing someone really means. I haven't come to any concrete conclusions yet, I'm afraid – but I am very glad that Valancy has had someone in her life that she feels like she has known, nevertheless, even if he has long since passed away.

Grandfather Wansbarra seems to have been something of an eccentric, in a fun but also, perhaps, somewhat annoying way. So far, we've learned that he chose Valancy's name, that he claimed to be the reincarnation of his great-great-grandfather, and that apparently, he didn't have too much time for social niceties ("He talked all his life exactly as Valancy did today.")

All this makes me wonder how on earth he managed to father and raise someone like Mrs. Frederick. Perhaps that was Amelia's quiet form of rebellion, becoming someone completely unlike her father? And like someone said, she has likely had to put in a lot of effort to be accepted into the Stirling clan despite her family background, so whatever small peculiarities she might've inherited from her father must've been ironed out in the process.

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Sidenote: I keep thinking of starlings whenever I read or write the name Stirling. That's too nice an association for this bunch, really. Starlings are such beautiful birds.

(photo by TheOther Kev on Pexels)

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"“Fun!” Mrs. Frederick uttered the word as if Valancy had said she was going to have a little tuberculosis."

This made me laugh.

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