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Combining glittering wit, an atmosphere dense in social paranoia, and a breathtaking elegance and precision of language, White's first novel suggests a hilarious apotheosis of the comedy of manners. For, on the privileged island community where Forgetting Elena takes place, manners are everything. Or so it seems to White's excruciatingly self-conscious young narrator who desperately wants to be accepted in this world where everything from one's bathroom habits to the composition of "spontaneous" poetry is subject...
Combining glittering wit, an atmosphere dense in social paranoia, and a breathtaking elegance and precision of language, White's first novel suggests a hilarious apotheosis of the comedy of manners. For, on the privileged island community where Forgetting Elena takes place, manners are everything. Or so it seems to White's excruciatingly self-conscious young narrator who desperately wants to be accepted in this world where everything from one's bathroom habits to the composition of "spontaneous" poetry is subject to rigid conventions.
Posted October 9, 2014
Rishea and Tarshiz found the place in which they ussally talked. Siting down Tarshiz began the convorsation. "So, do you know what day it is?" He asked as he scratched an itch on his ear. "Only thing i know, is that we have been here longer then we should have. Its been about, 3-4 weeks?" She replyed questioning herself. Tarshiz frowned.. "That short a time?" He muttered in a complainative tone. "Asi." (Yes) Rishea said looking around the corner making sure no one was looking for them.<p> Tarshiz picked up a stick and swung it at a rock. It splintered and setmany pieces flying everywhere."Don't make so much noise!" Rishea said trying to hush him. She noticed a slaver looking her way, and she pulled Tarshiz behind a tree with her. Her mind went into panic, fear of the punishment for being caught was slithering down her spine. She felt Tarshiz shaking, he was only 8 and knew no better. The slaver whiped a young girl and began his journey over.<p> The slaver stomped over eventually reaching his destination. Looking behind the rock, he found them hiding there. Anger raged inside of him as he grabed Rishea by the hair pulling her to her feet. He drew a knife and drove it threw her raggedy dress sticking her to a tree. He walked over to Tarshiz and punching him in the face. Blood slowly driped from Tarshiz' face as the boy began to wail in pain. Rishea screamed at the sight in fear that she would be next. Closing her eyes as the slaver walked back towards her, she heard a loud neigh of a horse. Afraid to look she remained still. Clash of swords could be heard and she decided to look.<p> scaning the area she noticed dozens of the kings warriors battling the slavers fiercely. Still teathered to the tree by the knife she feared she would be killed in all the mess. The slaver who was about to hit her suddenly fell still. His eyes widing as blood sliped threw his lips. Falling to his nees and then to his back dead. To her left she saw a kings solider's head get riped off by a whip. Blood flying everywhere some onto her. She screamed again at the hurendes sight. <p> a horse and rider burst threw the think undergrowth. The horse was a massive war beast, his muscles bulging on all four legs, he stood higher then the tallest coach horse. Saddled with a few armor plates, they apeared to be burnt black, like a charcoal. The rider was young, long hair covering his eyebrows, a slight beard covered his chin. He was laiden in chain sleves, with a leather shirt. His pants were also leather, but his boots were coated with leg gaurds. His fore-arms had silver qauntlets. His sword broad and a hybrd of double hand to one hand. Like that of a ba<_>st<_>ar<_>d sword. Rishea looked in awe at the warrior.... (Part three will be posted tomorrow..) (Post)Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.