1) It's spring in Melbourne. We can tell by how it was 30 degrees and
windy yesterday, followed by an impressively dramatic temperature drop,
which made it rawther chilly overnight.*
But the most telling piece of evidence is how everyone is swearing at the plane-tree fluff.
Also, in other Melbourne spring news: don't forget that DAYLIGHT SAVING starts this weekend. HOORAY! BOOOOO! **
This has been a public service announcement. 2) This Twilight: Breaking Dawn part 2 poster - it's just really really funny somehow.
3) It's Friday. What would you like to be doing best? Going on a 'sonic journey' as our colleague Jarvis Cocker reads a passage from Heart of Darkness accompanied by cellist Philip Sheppard? Thought so.
4) For $395,000 you can buy Ingleside. INGLESIDE! Surely we need a Canadian office, don't we Mothership? We promise to leave at least one Onion to run the Melbourne office. We were always a bit suss on her anyway.
* Don't pack away these winter doonas just yet, people. You don't want to freeze in the fickle Melbourne spring. ** The onset of Daylight Savings is guaranteed to ever and always divide the night-owls from early-birds.
With the upcoming wedding of Wills and Kate - ahem, sorry, William and Catherine - taking up most of the tv and radio waves (and the entire market in tatty souvenirs) for the forseeable future, we thought that we'd take this oportunity to celebrate some unconventional royals.
E Nesbit did a great line in surprising monarchs. She imagined kings who were property developers, princesses who married lift men, and Fairy Godmothers who gave the oddest advice to their royal charges. One of the best is Billy the King. Eager to make his way in the world, Billy King answers a job ad at his local employment office. 'Hard-working king wanted; no objection to one who has not been out before.' Sounds ideal, but things - of course - don't go as planned for Billy. There is an ineffective prime minister, a monarch-eating monster and all sorts of trouble. But luckily there is also Eliza, the brand new queen from the neighbouring kingdom.
Margaret Mahy must be sprinkled with some of the same magic dust as Nesbit. Strange and interesting royalty abound in her short stories, too. Like the melancholy king who is cheered up by music made by Selina and her grandmother who live in the dump-diddledump-diddledump (much to the distress of the royal physicians who feel sure the king's ears will be polluted by untold germs). But perhaps most lovely of all is the beautiful princess who marries a clown. 'Princesses don't marry clowns! They marry princes, simpletons, and seventh sons; they marry the youngest of three brothers - but NEVER clowns!' And like all good clowns (and all good princesses!), this clown is made of equal parts humour and melancholy - so lovely - sigh.
The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munch, Illustrated by Michael Martchenko
Elizabeth begins as a princess princess - all pretty clothes and marrying perfect princes. But enter the dragon, who burns Elizabeth's clothes and generally forces her to look at life differently. Elizabeth outsmarts the dragon, rescues the prince, discovers he's not so perfect afterall and dumps him to pursue her own interests. WIN!
The Princess and the Dragon by Audrey Wood
Rather similar in flavour to The Paperbag Princess - but this one goes a step further. The roaring princess and the ballet-dancing dragon just aren't cut out for the roles society wants them to play. Never fear - I can feel a swap coming on! Aren't the courtiers delighted when the abrasive princess is replaced by the polite-as-pie dragon! And isn't the princess delighted when she can live in a cave and terrorise villagers to her heart's content! Play to your strengths seems as good a moral as any.
This is a strange and wonderful book. When Prince Florin and his father, King Phillip, attend a banquet in the neighbouring kingdom, they are greeted with devastating betrayal. After the ambush, Prince Florin is forced to live in the stable with Mimus, the wily court jester. Mimus is by turns cruel and generous, proud and lowly, brave and cowardly. In order to save his own life, Florin must learn the ways of the jester and unravel a secret plot. But can he trust Mimus? An epic mystery: funny, chilling and gripping. No monarch can remain unchanged after living the life of the jester.
Just like Kate, Buttercup is a beautiful commoner, plucked from obscurity by the prince of the land. But Prince Humperdinck is about as far from Prince Charming as a prince can possibly get. And poor Buttercup is kidnapped by a swordmaster Spaniard (who is not left-handed), a Turkish giant (who has a sportsman's heart) and a clever Sicilian (who is not as smart as he thinks he is) - who are then outwitted, outplayed, outlasted by the Dread Pirate Roberts whose intentions are...well... more seemly than any Survivor contestant's intentions ever are. So if all the hoo-ha about Wills & Kate's wedding has put you in the mood for a fairytale royal romance - with a happy ending? As you wish.
It comes to our attention that we are probably a grave disappointment to a few people.
We strive to please, but over the year-and-a-few-months that Alien Onion has been around, a host of people have landed here by way of very specific Google questions that, to the best of our knowledge, this blog has completely failed to answer.
In the spirit of the new year we have decided to answer these questions as best we can, in case any of those poor lost souls ever make their way back this way.
So here we go...
Q: How does the story Mahaliaby Joanne Horniman end? A: Okay, so Matt and Emmy... Wait a minute... Are you asking this because you're supposed to have read it for class and you have to write an essay or do an exam or something and you're trying to fake it? Well then, Sir/Madam, we would never be party to such sneaky cheaterism. You're on your own. Plus, the book is really good so you should just read it.
Q: What does Nick sing at the end of Lirael? A: We wouldn't want to be spoilery so we've make this text white. You'll need to highlight it in order to read the answer.
I'll sing you a song of the long ago - Seven shine the shiners, oh! What did the Seven do way back when? Why, they wove the Charter then! Five for the warp, from beginning to end. Two for the woof, to make and mend. That's the Seven, but what of the Nine- What of the two who chose not to shine? The Eighth did hide, hide all away, But the Seven caught him and made him pay. The Ninth was strong and fought with might, But lone Orannis was put out of the light, Broken in two and buried under a hill, Forever to lie there, wishing us ill.
Although, technically, we're not sure it's really Nick who sings this. I mean, sure, he's the mouthpiece, but there is something else behind his eyes - if you know what we're saying. To our minds, the song has interesting parallels with Green Grow the Rushes, O - which at least one Onion used to sing on long family car trips (because it builds and builds in a long and satisfying fashion, like The 12 Days of Christmas).
Q: What is riz? A: We assume here you are not talking about the inimitable Rizzo from Grease, but rather the riz that the grass is. Happily, we had an epiphany about riz in the spring of our discontent. (Well, it wasn't actually the spring we were discontent with - just the loss of riz as awesome. Sigh.)
Q: Who said: "My Kingdom for a horse?" And where? A: Speaking of seasons of discontent... That oft-quoted chap by the name of Shakespeare wrote it. Many people have said it, most notably those who have been unhorsed at the battle of Bosworth field while playing Richard in the Bard's play Richard III. Despite the fact that we are anti-spoiler, we can say that it does end rather badly for poor old Richard...
Q: What do onions have to do with Christmas? A: Is this a trick question? Perhaps you haven't been paying proper attention? This is what Onions have to do with Christmas. What's that? Oh, you mean actual onions? The foods. Oh, I see. Sorry about that, chief. Hmmm. Onions and Christmas. Nope. Nothing springs to mind. But the multi-talented Ms Lili Wilkinson can help you with other Christmas items, such as Turkey, Stuffing, Bread Sauce and Potatoes.
Q: Does Mr Edwards bring onions or potatoes for Christmas in Little House on the Prairie? A: Potatoes! Lili and Mr Edwards both bring the potatoes. We don't know who brings the onions. Well, technically, Mr Edwards brings sweet potatoes. He also brings heart-shaped cakes and tin cups and candy canes and shiny new pennies. And let us take a moment to remember that he walked 40 miles from Independence, Kansas, and then swam the swollen Verdigris river so that Mary and Laura would have their Christmas gifts.
Q: Is there onomatopoeia in To Kill a Mocking Bird? A: Hmm. We suspect another attempt to shortcut the actual reading of the book here and we do not condone it. This is one to read. And re-read. And read again. That said, there is at least one onomatopoeic passage in To Kill a Mockingbird that springs to mind: "Jean Louise. Jean Louise, stand up. Your father's passing." Sounds exactly like weeping.
Q: Can I get there by candlelight book? A: Well, it is perhaps an unusual way to travel, but then so is the Tardis, so if you close your eyes and concentrate very hard on the candlelight book, its magic may well transport you wherever you wish to go.
Q: Are we under a spell? A: Yes. We are under the spell of the candlelight book.
Q: "Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. so... get on your way." Which book? A: As Sam-I-am might say: I will not box them here or there. I will not box them anywhere.
Oops, wrong book reference. Your mountain is actually waiting in the pages of Oh the Places You'll Go! by Theodor Geisel aka Dr Seuss. So get on your way.
Q: What is a wilted onion? A: Something that happens when Onions are exposed to a brutal Melbourne summer. Check back in next Monday, forecast to be 38, and we'll show you.
Q: Do you remember when you were thirteen? A: Yes.
Q: Can you kill an alien with onions? A: You know what, we're not sure if it's ever been tried. Alien et al, Independence Day, Signs, District 9 - perhaps these could all have been shorter films if only someone had thought to try onions as the first line of defence. I mean, if garlic works on vampires... *rushes to stock basement with onions in preparation for inevitable alien invasion*
Q: How can a boy work on summer holidays? A: Hmm, good question. Paper routes might be kind of on the way out. Summer jobs that are popular in YA fiction include: lifeguard at your local pool, working in the deli aisle at the supermarket, or serving in a coffee shop or bookshop. And if Empire Records is anything to go by, we strongly suggest you apply at the hippest indie record store you can find in your immediate vicinity.
Q: How do you pronounce hunca munca ? A: We've always said hunka munka - like hunka hunka burning love. How else would you pronounce it? Surely not hunsa munsa?
Q: How do you spell 'marshions"? A: Not like that.
Q: What's Mo Johnson doing these days? A: Well, for one thing she's writing awesome books like Something More . Mo - if you care to further enlighten this curious soul, have at it in the comments.
Q: Can onions help with sickness? A: Oh yes. Onions have many excellent medicinal qualities. *adds more onions to the Apocalypse-survival stash*
Q: What is the things that we use in water skiing? A: Water skis.
Q: What's Bruno about? A: You know, most of the time we have absolutely no idea. But whatever it is, it's working for us, so we hope he continues to be about it.
Q: Is there a banana-duck? A:This is our favourite banana duck. In his biscuit form he is our avatar. (See top of page.) But here is another excellent one.
Q: What is YA? A: Actually, the people who asked this question should have been well satisfied, as we've answered the heck out of it. Phew! Go Us!
Q: Are giant onions hotter and the compertition? A: ... ... You know what, we got nothing. You're on your own with this one. Good luck, friend!
Q: What's so good about The Princess Bride? * A: Everything. (Clearly we know something you don't know.)
*Okay. We confess. We made this one up. But, you know, as we have said before, when it comes to The Princess Bride: any excuse.
In November we're publishing a BIG bind-up of Garth Nix's Old Kingdom Chronicles (Sabriel, Lirael & Abhorsen). Over 1400 pages of epic fantasy goodness.
The bind-up will be completely awesome, but 1400 typeset A4 pages do tend to clog up one's desk. When you're checking corrections, that's 2800 pages right there - pretty soon the piles are out of control, then the spine width is off the charts and you have to send it to the printer in a cardboard box.
Happily, as well as having desks full of paper, we've also had heads full of swords, and bells, and the Dead, and Charter Marks (and, you know, the ever-alluring URST between Sabriel and Touchstone and then Lirael and Nick. *swoons*)
This much more pleasurable kind of clogging got us thinking about swords in general. So we listed the famous swords we knew - just, you know, for fun. (This House gets nerdier by the moment. Hurrah!)
Of course we began with Lirael's sword Nehima, then we thought of:
Rhindon
Excalibur
Sting
Glamdring
and The Elder Wand (Controversial, not strictly a 'sword', clearly, but surely it takes the place a sword would occupy in another sort of fantasy?)
And if we're having the Elder Wand then surely we can justify Mr Pointy.
With the exception of Nehima and Mr Pointy, these swords are all wielded by men.
Most feisty and excellent of heroines, Wynter Moorehawke sure knows how to use a sharp and pointy object, but we don't think she names her dagger. (Right, Celine?) And Susan Pevensie is a mean archer - but it's only Peter's sword that has a name.
Does anyone know of other famous pointy objects, especially swords belonging to women?
Also, doesn't all this talk about swords just make you want to watch this...?
Some of the Onions have been feeling rather poorly lately, and have had to take to their beds. While we are sad for them, and wish them speedy recovery, it put us in mind of a list - and you all know how we love a list.
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott What with her sweetness, her kindness, her quiet shyness and her tirelessly charitable nature, Beth was definitely the GOOD girl; some might say uber-good - and look what happened to her!
Dignity in death is all very well, but this Onion found that the clear lesson to be learned here was: be bold girls - rage, rage against the dying of the light - and any other confinements that might confront you.
The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
'When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow, and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another.'
And then there's cousin Colin, incurable invalid and destined to die young... Didn't we all secretly hope that we too could find our own version of that miraculously reviving garden of delights?
Perhaps the lesson here could be: nature can triumph over nurture.
What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge Katy Carr's hair is always a mess, and often there are tears in her dress, and she doesn't care at all for being GOOD. But then, when she wilfully disobeys an instruction not to use the swing, she is paralysed and forced to spend FOUR YEARS confined to her room. Katy must find the courage to look inside herself, cultivate her daydreams and practice patience and responsibility if she is to recover and do something grand...
While a favourite for many, this 'classic' proved far too much of an unwelcome morality tale for some young Onions - and was unceremoniously cast across the room and abandoned. Abandoned, I say. For good.
Oh, must there always be a lesson to be learned? Surely there's an uplifting item for our list of confinement books. Oh wait - here's one we prepared earlier:
The Princess Bride by William Goldman
Grandson:A book?
Grandfather: That's right. When I was your age, television was called books. And this is a special book. It was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father, and today, I'm gonna read it to you.
Grandson: Does it got any sports in it?
Grandfather: Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, miracles....
Grandson: Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try and stay awake.
In honour of Bastille Day, because after all who doesn't love a storming of the castle.
1: Mr Chicken Goes to Paris by Leigh Hobbs As Sonya Hartnett says: 'The world's most beautiful city meets the world's most startling chicken...'
2: Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmansy 'In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. They left the house, at half past nine... The smallest one was Madeline.'
3: Asterix by Rene Goscinny All Gaul is occupied. All? No! One small village still holds out against the invaders. The ever-popular adventures of shrewd Asterix and super-strong Obelix who are determined to resist the advances of the Roman Empire. It's worth it for the names alone. Par example: Chief Vitalstatistix, the fishmonger Unhygienix and best of all the Druid Getafix. (If you want to marvel at the genius of translators, go here.)*
4: Babar by Jean de Brunhoff Leaving aside any political or moral objections to the stories - who doesn't love an elephant? Especially one who names his kids Pom, Flora and Alexander.
5: The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery Speaking of elephants, any book that has its own museum(in Japan - not France) needs no explanation from us.
6: The Princess Bride by William Goldman Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, miracles.... You may ask how this fits into our Bastille Day celebrations? Easy, peasy. As we have said before, any excuse.
* We should probably mention that other great French comic book hero, Tin Tin, but we're not going to.
Thursday - Showers, possible storm. Windy. Severe weather warning for damaging winds. Gale warning for Port Phillip. Gale warning for Western Port.
Clearly it's time for a list of windy books:
1: The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame A classic that makes the list on its title alone.
But, oh, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. '... as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion... the gift of forgetfulness.' (Children of the 80s might also remember this wistful windy tune.)
2: We Didn't Mean to Go to Sea by Arthur Ransome Speaking of messing about in boats, these four kids accidentally drift out to the North Sea after the rising tide causes their cutter to drag anchor. High adventure on the high seas in a high wind sees them end up in Holland! (And Susan and Titty are seasick and John almost goes overboard while reefing the mainsail and Roger... well, really, Roger just enjoys the whole thing.)
'The old house creaked in the cold and outside the window the big stars grew closer and closer, till they were like cold faces peering through the glass. And the winds of heaven sprang up and blew above the paddocks and rocked in the great space of the sky.'
... we have nothing further to add. (Except let yourself be blown out the door and tumbled down to a bookshop or library so you can read this book immediately!)
4: The Children of the Wind (series) by Kirsty Murray A sweeping Irish-Australian saga made up of Bridie's Fire, Becoming Billy Dare, A Prayer for Blue Delaney and The Secret Life of Maeve Lee Kwong; four inter-linked novels, beginning in the 1850s and taking the reader on an epic journey right through to the present. (Oh Bridie! Is there any place on earth more windswept than the coast of south-west Ireland during the potato famine?)
5. A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle. Onion confession: none of us actually know what this title means. But there are a lot of windy dark nights in the first book A Wrinkle In Time, and the whole Time Quartet is brilliant, so onto the list with it.
6: The Princess Brideby William Goldman* Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, miracles.... You may ask how this fits into our windy genre? Easy, peasy.
*Yes - we know this is a tenuous link, but we like to leap on any excuse to turn our thoughts to the genius that is The Princess Bride. And no, we're not trying to trick you - this is not a kissing book.
We design, edit, publish and generally wrangle books, authors and illustrators, and eat cake in a three-storey Victorian terrace with a view of St Patrick's Cathedral.
