Hmf. Your Humble Blogger hasn’t Reported on a Book for lo these many, and was behind for a while before that, so it’s been quite some weeks since Curse of Chalion was finished. And since it was the third (or perhaps fourth) time through the thing, I can no longer separate the last experience of reading it from the previous experiences. I enjoyed it, of course, but much in the same way I have enjoyed it previously. I think that Ms. Bujold’s somewhat heavy-handed they-like-each-other-but-he-won’t-admit-it bit felt more annoying this time through. On the other hand, I (for some reason) really enjoyed the Trip to Ibra, and its attendant whatnottage.
You know, at one point in Harold Nicolson’s diplomatic career, he was (if I remember correctly) left by himself in charge of the Embassy in Tehran, when the Ambassador was visiting home. At the time, the trains were really coming through, and there were planes in the more civilized parts of the world, so in a real emergency it was possible to get a letter to London answered in as little as seven or eight days. You know, if there was an incident, and a decision had to be made about, oh, an impending continental war. It’s hard to imagine that, these days, when any decision in any part of the world can be more-or-less instantly referred home, and the Secretary of State can go to the hot spot herself, or put the President on the telephone. One wonders, of course, if diplomacy has been improved by such communications. Caz plays the “I’m just an ambassador and can’t negotiate” card in Ibra, and then the Chancellor plays the “who knows what he’s up to halfway across the world” card. Ah, fantasy.
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.