Put The Book Back On The Shelf

Riddle 47*

Moððe word fræt.      Me þæt þuhte
wrætlicu wyrd,      þa ic þæt wundor gefrægn,
þæt se wyrm forswealg      wera gied sumes,
þeof in þystro,      þrymfæstne cwide
ond þæs strangan staþol.      Stælgiest ne wæs
wihte þy gleawra,      þe he þam wordum swealg.

(A moth devoured words; that seemed to me a wondrous event, when I discovered the wonder that the wyrm, a thief in darkness, swallowed a word of a certain notable one of men, a glorious saying and its strong foundation. The thieving stranger was not at all the wiser because he swallowed the words.)

:::

Dozens of books and journal articles to be read as secondary readings for your project and essay and you're fooling around with graphic novels and Tom Holt. Madame Sosostris predicted you'll be buggered.

Finally succumbed to the curiosity as to why Neil Gaiman's name is on everybody's lips (and you've never even heard of him), but every single one of his comics in City Library seems to be perpetually on loan - even the ones in the kiddy section. Fortunately, there were a couple of non-graphic books of his lying around; grabbed the one titled Smoke And Mirrors.

So the inevitable happened - succumbed and got assimilated into what appears to be a universal worship of Neil Gaiman.

It was your soft spot for Bēowulf, of course; if anything or anyone could get to you, it'd be through B with whom you had that six-month dalliance. You've known you have a thing for the warrior-types (admittedly more towards Xena and the Devils' No.4 Captain/defenseman than blond Vikings, but who else can claim to have spent at least five nights in a stormy sea wearing a mail-shirt and carrying a sword (unsheathed), and kicked the shit out of sea-beasts?); Gaiman's 'Bay Wolf' retells Bēowulf "as a futuristic episode of 'Baywatch'" - and it's set in Venice Beach, L.A., no less - color you smitten. And then there is 'Looking for the Girl' haunting you; you know there are just too many Charlottes in your life, don't you?

Andrzej Klimowski. You don't know which you find more disturbing - The Secret or The Depository - both are equal mind-fucks. They up the vaguely nightmarish and completely eerie factor of Mulholland Drive (especially the scene at the performance hall "Silencio") by way too many degrees for comfort.

:::

Something happened - is still happening: you're not coherent; you're looping 'new' songs; you've got 'new' books.

You feel guilty eating your strawberry loaf and truffles because Belle & Sebastian keeps reminding you, "There are people going hungry every day / They’ve got nothing on their plates / And you’re filling your fat face with every different kind of cake".

Mary Ann Redmond keeps asking, "Do you ever let anyone near / Do you ever reach out with arms open wide / Do you ever jump in closing your eyes / Or are you one of the fortunate kind / Alone but not lonely?"

You're hearing Bic Runga, but you're not really listening to her anymore, because Shivaree holds greater sway when she confides in you, "I'm looking for a moonbeam to get lost in / Everything will be beautiful and bright / 'Cause things come out at night / They're ugly / And some of them bite / So I'm getting lost in a dream."

Personally, you think that's a really great idea, but R.E.M. has an even better one: "Close my eyes so I can see / Make my make-believe believe in me."

Which, of course, is what you've been praying every night for.

:::

A bookworm, not at all the wiser - that's you.