As discussed in the current open thread: Velma Bowen de Selby died yesterday, in Seattle, 18 Oct 2014, at 3:30 PM (PDT). Her partner Soren de Selby was with her. Ave atque vale.
We will miss her forever.
One Hundred Spanish Proverbs
A fool who knows Latin is never a real fool.
A good man’s pedigree is little hunted up.
A hundred years hence we shall all be bald.
A rich man is either a scoundrel or the heir of a scoundrel.
Always be patient with the rich and powerful.
An absent saint gets no candles.
An ounce of mother is worth a ton of priest.
As the abbot sings, the sacristan responds.
Beauty and chastity are always quarreling.
Better visit hell in your lifetime than after you’re dead.
Between brothers, two witnesses and a notary.
Between two Saturdays happen many marvels.
Buy from desperate people, and sell to newlyweds.
Cheat me with the price, but not with the goods I buy.
Communism is a cow of many: well milked and badly fed.
Do not rejoice at my grief, for when mine is told, yours will be new.
Don’t refuse a wing to the one who gave you the chicken.
Even a sugar mother-in-law tastes bitter.
Every cask smells of the wine it contains.
Every man for himself and God for us all.
Everything in its season, and turnips in Advent.
Fate sends almonds to toothless people.
From a fallen tree, all make kindling.
God is a good worker, but He loves to be helped.
Halfway is twelve miles when you have fourteen miles to go.
He that has no children brings them up well.
He who denies all confesses all.
He who goes with wolves learns to howl.
He who inherits a hill must climb it.
He who is a Basque, a good Christian, and has two mules, needs nothing more.
He who was first an acolyte, and afterwards an abbot or curate, knows what the boys do behind the altar.
Hell is full of the ungrateful.
How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then rest afterward.
I know they are all honest men, but my cloak is nowhere to be found.
I’ve fried my sausage in better pans than these.
If a person is away, his right is away.
If fools went not to market, bad wares would not be sold.
If I die, I forgive you. If I live, we shall see.
If the sky falls, hold up your hands.
If three people say you are an ass, put on a bridle.
If you can’t bite, don’t show your teeth.
If you cannot be chaste, be cautious.
If you have nothing better to do, go to bed with your own wife.
If you want to sleep well, buy the bed of a bankrupt.
If you would be pope, you must think of nothing else.
If your enemy is up to his waist in water, give him your hand; if the water reaches his shoulders, stand on his head.
If your wife tells you to throw yourself off a cliff, pray to God that it is a low one.
In large rivers one finds big fish, but one may also be drowned.
In the absence of honest men, they made my father mayor.
It is good to have friends, even in hell.
It is no fun to guard a house with two doors.
It’s better to arrive on time than to be invited.
Laws, like the spider’s web, catch the fly and let the hawk go free.
Let fools and wind pass.
Losers are always in the wrong.
Love can do much, money can do everything.
Love is like war: you begin when you like and leave off when you can.
Lovers always think that other people are blind.
Many things grow in the garden that were never sown there.
Never beg from one who was a beggar.
Never let a poor man advise you on investments.
Not everyone who wears spurs owns a horse.
Of what you see, believe very little; of what you are told, nothing.
Old age is cruel for whores and magicians.
One can’t ring the bells and walk in the procession.
One drink is just right; two is too many; three are too few.
Only God helps the badly dressed.
Pay me back what you owe me; we’ll talk later about what I owe you.
Since I wronged you, I have never liked you.
Take what you want, God said to man, and pay for it.
Talking about bulls is altogether different from being in the arena.
Tell a lie and find the truth.
The absent are always at fault.
The advice of foxes is dangerous for chickens.
The best cook drops a whole tomato.
The best word still has to be spoken.
The cat always leaves her mark upon her friend.
The empty purse boasts that she is made of leather.
The first drink with water, the second without water, the third like water.
The foolish sayings of a rich man pass for wise ones.
The judge’s son goes into the courtroom without fear.
The king goes as far as he may, not as far as he could.
The more you flatter a fool, the more seriously he plays his game.
The patient who names a doctor his heir makes a big mistake.
The treason pleases, but the traitors are odious.
The turd is proud that the river will carry it.
The wolf loses his teeth but not his inclinations.
There is a great art in selling the wind.
There were already twenty in the family, so my grandmother had a baby.
Three Spaniards, four opinions.
Time and I against any two.
To drunken mothers-in-law give full jugs.
What a fool does in the end, the wise do in the beginning.
What cures the liver harms the spleen.
What have you to hide from someone who shows you his arse?
What is much desired is not believed when it comes.
When you are talking about marriage, think about your mother.
Where the river is deepest it makes the least noise.
Who gossips with you will gossip about you.
You can’t have more bedbugs than a blanketful.
(Raw material found here; edited by TNH)
On sale today in hardcover and e-book in North America, and on November 1 in the UK and certain other parts of the world.
My (rather glib) flap copy:
Vlad Taltos was an oppressed and underprivileged Easterner—that is, a human—living in Adrilankha, capital of the Dragaeran Empire. Life was hard. Worse, it was irritating. Then Vlad made a great discovery: Dragaerans would pay him to kill other Draegarans. Win-win!
The years of Vlad’s career as a crime boss and top assassin were cut short by a revolution, a divorce, and an attack of conscience (not necessarily in that order). In the midst of all that, he broke with the Jhereg, the Dragaeran house of organized crime. He’s been a marked man ever since. The Jhereg want to kill him. The Jhereg would love to kill him.
So Vlad’s been avoiding Adrilankha as much as possible. That hasn’t worked out too well. His life is there: his ex-wife Cawti, his son, and all his friends. One of those friends is his former assistant Kragar, who’s taken over Vlad’s old territory and criminal operations. Vlad will need Kragar’s help if he’s going to return to Adrilankha and deal with this mess.
It won’t be easy, and it certainly won’t be simple. Because there are no messes like the ones you make yourself.
Some other people’s opinions:
“Adventure, humor, and pure fun…Highly recommended.”
—Booklist on Tiassa
“A wonderful return to form…This witty, wry tale stands well alone and is very accessible to new readers.”
—Publishers Weekly on Tiassa
“Hawk, the 14th book in Steven Brust’s Vlad Taltos series, is a moving, funny and tantalizing end-game glimpse of the assassin, reluctant revolutionary and epic wisecracker. [I’ve] been reading this generation-spanning series of Hungarian mythology, revolutionary politics, and gastronomy for more than 30 years.
“I have been reading the Vlad Taltos books all my life, have literally grown up with them, and eagerly await each new volume, counting the years while Brust finishes it. He claims he knows where it’s all going — has known, in fact, since the first book — and there’s ample evidence for that, because if there’s one word I’d use to describe these, it’d be ‘premeditated’ — in a good way.
“That’s because each volume of this series is, first and foremost, a caper story. Even the ones where Vlad lies dying on a cave floor for the whole book. Brust is one of those natural caper writers (as is amply evidenced in The Incrementalists, his wonderful collaboration with Skyler White), a pulp writer in the Hammett tradition, someone with what William Gibson calls ‘wheels on his tractor.’ In other words, a writer who can spin a yarn that keeps you guessing until the end, aware of many precise moving parts all meshing in synchrony to drive a magnificent jeweled watch of a story.
“Even better, Brust uses those marvellous plots to tell even more marvellous stories, full of delightful and gorgeously flawed characters whose mistakes are both inevitable and horrible, and whose victories are improbable, partial, fraught and deeply satisfying. Brust writes people you want to root for, even though they probably won’t succeed (after all, who succeeds in the long run?).”
—Cory Doctorow, Boing Boing
Since there’s a material lag between the broadcast times of Dr Who on the two sides of the Pond, here’s a spoiler thread for exasperated exclamations, squillions of squees, historical hrrumphs, and ridiculous retconning before the episodes are generally known.
Enter at your peril, if you aren’t caught up.