Among Others

The junk shop was open, and I looked through their books. I didn’t see anything appealing except a folding cloth (canvas I think) map of Europe, with Germany huge and no Czechoslovakia. I think it must be from the war, or right before. Somebody had drawn a pink line on it in felt pen, but otherwise it’s in really good condition. The country colours are sort of pastels, not hard colours like they would be now. I couldn’t resist it, as it was only 5p. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. But maps are brill.

 

I walked slowly back up into town, looked through Smiths, which is usually a total waste of time, but today I was rewarded with a copy of Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine! I wonder where that came from. I do hope they’ll start getting it regularly. I bought it, and also a packet of Rollos, which I would happily share with Frodo and Sam if I could, but I can’t. I also bought a card for Grampar, one with the sea and a sandcastle that reminds me of summer holidays, and will remind him too.

 

Gill was at the bus stop. “No boyfriend today?” she asked.

 

I looked her straight in the eye. “Not that it’s any concern of yours, but Hugh’s just a friend, not a boy friend. He goes to the book club.”

 

“Oh. Sorry,” she said. I was amazed that she believed me. It’s a good thing it wasn’t Wim she’d seen me with, or I wouldn’t have been able to say that with such conviction, even though it would have been equally true.

 

SUNDAY 27TH JANUARY 1980

 

The way to be popular in this school is to go into hospital and come out again. Or maybe it’s to have someone say you’re brave—I know Deirdre’s been saying that. Maybe they didn’t actually believe there was anything wrong with my leg before? Or maybe they feel sorry for me? I hope not. I’d hate that. But anyway, seven buns today, counting my honey bun. Two iced buns, two Chelsea buns, an iced cupcake and an eclair. I couldn’t eat them all, and gave one of the Chelsea buns to Deirdre. I hadn’t done anything to make this happen, not just no magic but nothing at all. It’s very peculiar. I asked Miss Carroll about it and she said it was probably just that I’d been in hospital and come out and hadn’t made a fuss, and I’d been mentioned in Prayers and now was there and was in people’s minds when they went bun-buying. Maybe. It seems very odd to me.

 

I wrote a cheerful letter to Sam telling him what a terrific idea the acupuncture was. I haven’t even started the books he gave me, so I didn’t mention them. I also wrote to Daniel, mostly about seeing The Tempest, and to Auntie Teg, telling her about the acupuncture and the play. I sent the card to Grampar.

 

I’m up as far as the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, which may be the greatest thing ever written.

 

MONDAY 28TH JANUARY 1980

 

Aujourd’hui, rien.

 

That’s what Louis XVI wrote in his diary on the day of the storming of the Bastille.

 

I helped Miss Carroll stamping and shelving some new books. They all looked awful, being of the category of books about teenagers with problems—drugs, or abusive parents, or boyfriends who push for sex, or living in Ireland. I hate books like that. For one thing they’re all so relentlessly downbeat, and despite that you just know everyone will overcome all their problems in the end and start to Grow Up and Understand How the World Works. You can practically see the capitals. I’ve read half a ton of Victorian children’s books, because we had them lying around at home, Elsie Dinsmore and Little Women and Eric, or Little by Little and What Katy Did. They’re by different authors, but they all share the same kind of moralising. In the exact same way these Teen Problem books share the same kind of moralising, only it’s neither so quaint nor so clearly stated as the Victorian ones. If I have to have a book on how to overcome adversity give me Pollyanna over Judy Blume any day, though why anyone would read any of them when the world contains all this SF is beyond me. Even just within books written for children, you can learn way more about growing up and ethical behavior from Space Hostages or Citizen of the Galaxy.

 

I’ve written my Tempest response, and most of Deirdre’s, for her to copy out in prep. To make them different, I’ve made hers mostly about Miranda, and mine mostly about Prospero. She’s doing my maths in return. I just can’t cope with all these simultaneous equations, especially as I’ve missed some explanation.

 

Finished LOTR, with the usual sad pang of reaching the end and there being no more of it.

 

TUESDAY 29TH JANUARY 1980

 

Book club tonight, but I don’t know the subject.

 

WEDNESDAY 30TH JANUARY 1980

 

Jo Walton's books