Col. Sebastian "Basher" Moran (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tigers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
obsidianlogs2020-07-20 06:44 pm
tigers) wrote in obsidianlogs2020-07-20 06:44 pm
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Who: Sebastian Moran, his book review, and you
What: A seething book review for Life of Pi, pinned to a bulletin board. Yes, I am serious.
Where: Common Room
When: Afternoon
[ There are two pieces of paper pinned to the bulletin board, side by side. They weren’t there this morning, and they both feature a neat, elegant scrawl. If you should choose to stand there and read them, you’ll be met with the following:]
It would appear as though someone has so kindly left me a gift. When I woke this morning, what did I see upon my shelf? Not that shiny new pistol I’ve been begging Father Christmas for for the last of two years, but The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. In truth, perhaps they wished to insult me, but as shocking as it may seem, I am a well learned man. Published in my own right as well, but you won’t find Heavy Game of the Western Himayalas in the prison library. However, if you should stumble upon it, be a good chum and let me know.
Yes, I am a learned man and have read the book, and now I believe it only right that I share my thoughts with whoever may glance upon this board.
Now, little friends of the world, I found myself befuddled early on. The family packs up and emigrates to Canada of all places. Pray tell, what has there ever been in Canada for anyone? I will allow you a moment to contemplate that for yourself before I continue.
The answer is “nothing”, my friends. “Nothing”.
Neverthewhatsoever, tragedy strikes as tragedy will with dozens of animals upon a freighter at sea, the ship sinks, the main character escapes, Canada is unreachable, and I find myself befuddled once more. My friends, we have man, zebra, hyena, and orangutan alike all packed within a lifeboat, and beneath a tarpaulin—a tiger. Tigers can be absolutely monstrous creatures. Why, the hellcat who attacked me in Afghanistan was no less than nine feet from tip to tail. And yes, chummies, that would be the elusive Caspian tiger. It would seem you may have me to thank for that more recent extinction status. Still, mustn’t shed too many tears over it, eh? She would have kill me if I hadn’t killed her first.
Now, never you mind the size of the lifeboat the young man escapes in; I am more than capable of a little imagination myself. The problem comes with the animals’ inability to sense the tiger, no matter how well hidden it may be. Animals ain’t like you and I. That hyena would have sniffed out that cat in two seconds. That zebra would have been in the water in one. It is here, I’m afraid, that the entire believability of the novel falls apart for me.
The rest of the novel is given over to watery nonsense featuring the young man “conditioning” the tiger as if it is a dog. A great lot of rot, that is. Now, there is a moment in which the tiger kills and eats a Frenchman. I rather enjoyed this moment.
In the end, however, it does appear as if it was all poorly constructed symbolism to cover up a case of maritime cannibalism. The inability of the rozzers to sniff out the inconsistencies was believable, at least, but all could have been avoided if Canada had never entered into it to begin with. 0.5/5 stars.
—Col. Sebastian Moran
[ Nearby, Moran sits playing solitaire. If you want to critique him to his face, he's here. ]
What: A seething book review for Life of Pi, pinned to a bulletin board. Yes, I am serious.
Where: Common Room
When: Afternoon
[ There are two pieces of paper pinned to the bulletin board, side by side. They weren’t there this morning, and they both feature a neat, elegant scrawl. If you should choose to stand there and read them, you’ll be met with the following:]
It would appear as though someone has so kindly left me a gift. When I woke this morning, what did I see upon my shelf? Not that shiny new pistol I’ve been begging Father Christmas for for the last of two years, but The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. In truth, perhaps they wished to insult me, but as shocking as it may seem, I am a well learned man. Published in my own right as well, but you won’t find Heavy Game of the Western Himayalas in the prison library. However, if you should stumble upon it, be a good chum and let me know.
Yes, I am a learned man and have read the book, and now I believe it only right that I share my thoughts with whoever may glance upon this board.
Now, little friends of the world, I found myself befuddled early on. The family packs up and emigrates to Canada of all places. Pray tell, what has there ever been in Canada for anyone? I will allow you a moment to contemplate that for yourself before I continue.
The answer is “nothing”, my friends. “Nothing”.
Neverthewhatsoever, tragedy strikes as tragedy will with dozens of animals upon a freighter at sea, the ship sinks, the main character escapes, Canada is unreachable, and I find myself befuddled once more. My friends, we have man, zebra, hyena, and orangutan alike all packed within a lifeboat, and beneath a tarpaulin—a tiger. Tigers can be absolutely monstrous creatures. Why, the hellcat who attacked me in Afghanistan was no less than nine feet from tip to tail. And yes, chummies, that would be the elusive Caspian tiger. It would seem you may have me to thank for that more recent extinction status. Still, mustn’t shed too many tears over it, eh? She would have kill me if I hadn’t killed her first.
Now, never you mind the size of the lifeboat the young man escapes in; I am more than capable of a little imagination myself. The problem comes with the animals’ inability to sense the tiger, no matter how well hidden it may be. Animals ain’t like you and I. That hyena would have sniffed out that cat in two seconds. That zebra would have been in the water in one. It is here, I’m afraid, that the entire believability of the novel falls apart for me.
The rest of the novel is given over to watery nonsense featuring the young man “conditioning” the tiger as if it is a dog. A great lot of rot, that is. Now, there is a moment in which the tiger kills and eats a Frenchman. I rather enjoyed this moment.
In the end, however, it does appear as if it was all poorly constructed symbolism to cover up a case of maritime cannibalism. The inability of the rozzers to sniff out the inconsistencies was believable, at least, but all could have been avoided if Canada had never entered into it to begin with. 0.5/5 stars.
—Col. Sebastian Moran
[ Nearby, Moran sits playing solitaire. If you want to critique him to his face, he's here. ]