Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The Host--Chapter three

Wanderer is pissed. She thinks she's been given a defective host because the Seeker wants information from her. She's also not used to being pissed, and this pisses her off even more.

Have I raved enough about how much I love the concept of Xenocidal pacifists? Because it almost makes up for sparkling vampires. It also almost makes up for this being a Stephenie Meyer novel.

There is an aside about intuition being the sixth sense. Okay. Yeah. Whatever, Stephenie. The Seeker asks what could be wrong, and Wanderer says her memory is defective. She was trying to access the memory the Seeker wanted, and the memory isn't there.

Hey, Unnamed host chick? You go, girl.

There is babble about attachment points being correctly adhered to. For some reason this makes me think about The Human Centipede, which I have never seen and have no intention of watching ever, so my brain is kind of in this state of IDK WTF right now.

Then we have inner dialogue about Wanderer adapating to the body.

Again: I fucking love this. My numerous issues with S. Meyer aside, I love every part of this. Do not worry, my loyal blog readers. You will get much indignation from me. But for right now, everything about this concept is ringing all of my bells. Wanderer is not used to the human body, the human body is fighting her every inch of the way, and adaptation for the xenocidal Soul is not easy.

Kudos for making your Yeerks pacifists, Meyer. Also note: I am not letting you get out of this. My lingering love for K.A. Applegate will not allow it.

Wanderer starts freaking out about color. Aww, Meyer. Did somebody give your son the first book from the Andalite's perspective? That's soo sweet. I remember Ax freaking out about flavor something fierce, and then you had the time Cassie shapeshifted into a Yeerk to infiltrate and rescue the traitor yeerk whose name I can't remember. She was so happy to get to see again. Ah, good times, good times.

This is totally Animorphs fan fic, FYI.

 NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.

The Seeker explains about the memory defects. It's worth mentioning at this point, the Seeker is a brown person. Dark hair, olive skin. Wanderer is white. Every other major character in this book is white. The Seeker is the only antagonist worth writing about. And she's also the ONLY brown person in the ENTIRE BOOK. Actual race is also never mentioned, but "Olive completion" isn't something commonly applied to caucasian folk.

Way to go, S. Meyer. I feel dirty for liking  anything you write already.

(Also, brown loyal blog readers? Olive is a terrible descriptive term for skin tone. Olives, my dears, are green, and they are only an acceptable thing if they are either Kalamata or in a Hendricks Dirty Martini, Dry, with a twist. Or if they are black. Black olives are wonderful things. Is it too late to mention that I can only read this book slightly drunk? I'm slightly drunk right now. Imagine that.)


Wanderer has been inserted into this host because she prefers an Adult. Wanderer prefers to take over somebody else's body long after they've had time to develop their own Personhood. Wanderer does not consider this personhood an actual thing. Wanderer is a --

OH COME ON. SHE DESERVES IT.

*sigh* Fine. Fine.

Wanderer is a waste of alien glitter skin. There. Are you happy, Robot Susan B. Anthony?

Wanderer is then told about the resistance human Adults typically put up to being turned into prisoners in their own bodies Hosts for Souls.

Apparently a Soul took over an adult named Kevin. The Soul was a musician. Oh, I'm sorry, he had a Calling in Musicial Preformance. Because he was from the Blind World Planet of the Bats Singing World. Only Kevin was a mechanic. So the Soul becomes a Mechanic, which is a HUGE scandal. And then the Soul begins blacking out as Kevin takes his own body back, once in a while. Eventually Kevin the Host knocks a healer out and tries to cut the soul out of his own body. 

The souls react by removing the soul from Kevin and giving him a little kid to inhabit, while Kevin himself is destroyed.

Goodnight, sweet prince Kevin. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

(In case you haven't guessed, I don't like the Souls much.)

The Seeker assures Wanderer that she is not the average soul, while simultaneously guilt-tripping her for not choosing an immature host. Wanderer, meanwhile, feels ashamed that she isn't strong enough to supress our STILL unnamed human host.

Wanderer asks the Seeker why she was not implanted into this Host, as obviously the Seeker wants to know where the fuck the wild human came from. Seeker says that she's "No skipper", which means a body-jumper, which is apparently something that is frowned upon.

Wanderer then gives us the host's name. Melanie Stryder.

Melanie, for 90% of this book, will be my heroine. For the last 10% she will be the scum of the earth, but we're going to ignore that for the time being.

Melanie is also twenty years old. Finally, FINALLY, S. Meyer is writing about somebody who is not underage when the story starts.

Wanderer tries to remember why Melanie was trying to meet her cousin. She tells the Seeker where they can find Melanie's note, and then Melanie hijacks her own mouth to find out if they found Sharon. Melanie is hogtied in her own head and she is still fighting hard. Fuck you Wanderer. Melanie, have a beer.

Wanderer finds out its too late for the Seekers to find Melanie's buddies. Melanie feels relief. Wanderer just feels even more pissed at how present Melanie is in her own body. Well, again, Fuck you Wanderer. This ain't your house to begin with.

Melanie also remembers the pretty-faced boy's name" Jared. Wanderer turns this over to the Seeker, and the chapter ends. 

2 comments:

  1. "This is totally Animorphs fan fic, FYI."

    That explains this:

    "Wanderer then gives us the host's name. Melanie Stryder."

    Melanie Stryder? Stephanie Meyer?

    Nothing to see here, folks. No fanfic tropes happening at all. Move along.

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  2. "(Also, brown loyal blog readers? Olive is a terrible descriptive term for skin tone. Olives, my dears, are green, and they are only an acceptable thing if they are either Kalamata or in a Hendricks Dirty Martini, Dry, with a twist. Or if they are black. Black olives are wonderful things. Is it too late to mention that I can only read this book slightly drunk? I'm slightly drunk right now. Imagine that.)"

    Well, I have seen people with skin tones that I would describe as olive. Not the green colour, but some of the undertones are very similar. In North America at least that skin tone shows up a lot less often in reality than in fiction. I suspect it's the go-to phrase when someone wants to say their character is 'exotic, but not too dark'.

    Also, I'm getting really bored with the Starbucks Skin Scale, where shades of skin are described as various types of coffee with milk. Surely not every brown person in the world has skin that conveniently matches North America's favourite beverage?

    Oh, and the only dark skinned person in this book is the scary bad Seeker who even the other Souls fear? Full of fail, Stephanie. Really. Full of so much fail.

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