The uncanny timing of an unwelcome letter

I have mentioned in the past a particular form of unconscious sabotage, one that involves timing. Madeleine L’Engle’s Zachary Grey for example is an expert at taking actions that might have been deliberately arranged to deplete or even wipe out his victim’s inner resources and reserves shortly before she needs to draw heavily on them. How could he have possibly known what was going to happen?

I have on several occasions been on the receiving end of such actions myself. The introductory article gives examples of letters that ‘by chance’ arrived at the worst possible time:

“Family letters were infrequent, so the timing of these two was very significant. It is amazing how these unconscious saboteurs can ensure that their victims are hit where and when it hurts most.”

Another such letter arrived out of the blue recently, just before I received some very depressing news. This time however I was not badly affected, just slightly annoyed. If this was yet another attempted attack, it fell very flat!

The unwelcome and unnecessary letter
A letter arrived in the post from a family member I have minimal contact with, offering to send someone round with anything I might need. This was completely unnecessary; I replied immediately that I had not got the coronavirus, had plenty of supplies, could easily get more and had people I could call on for assistance if required.

An hour or two later, I got an email from a friend telling me that her father had died. I knew that he had been ill, but thought that he was recovering. He was an exceptionally nice and kind man; this was not a devastating, heart-breaking bereavement, but I felt very sad indeed to think that I would never see him again.

What a coincidence that the only communication apart from Christmas cards that I have received from this person for many years should arrive just before I had some very bad news, and, conversely, that the only very upsetting news of this kind I have received for many years should have been preceded by this unexpected and unwelcome letter.

Something about Michael de Larrabeiti’s Borribles

Just like Alan Garner’s Owl Service, Michael de Larrabeiti’s Borrible books are for me once read, never forgotten.

The Borrible books are urban fantasy; the Borrible people whose adventures they recount are something of a wainscot society.

The three Borrible books, which were later published in one volume, are:

The Borribles (1976)
The Borribles Go for Broke (1981)
Across the Dark Metropolis (1986).

There are no metaphysical elements in these books and they don’t contain much material that is relevant to this blog, but they do inspire some commentary.

The Borrible books are intended for older children but have a much wider appeal. Although I discovered them only as an adult, I found them fascinating; they left an immediate and permanent impression on the first reading. A big attraction for me is that they are set in London; they mention many places and features that I know well.

The Borrible books are a very good read, but they should have a warning for the faint-hearted and squeamish! They contain some vile, cruel, dangerous and sinister characters, there is much violence and killing, and some of the action takes place in very filthy and squalid surroundings such as sewers and junkyards.

In addition to that, they are sometimes seen as subversive. Across the Dark Metropolis, the third book in the series, was originally scheduled to be released in 1985, but the publishers pulled out at the last moment because of the riots in London. They felt that its strong anti-police message and glamourising of lawlessness made it unsuitable for publication in the climate of the time. By coincidence, some of the riots took place in areas of London that are mentioned in the book, Brixton for example.

What are Borribles?
Borribles are feral runaway children who never grow into adults - so long as they remain at liberty and their pointed ears remain unclipped. Some of them are around one hundred years old, but they still look like children.

Artemis Fowl and the demon cult leader: Part II

The other demon of interest in Eoin Colfer's Lost Colony is called Leon Abbot. He is one of the worst of the demons and the secret enemy of our cute little friend Number One. He is the cult leader type; many of the things he says and does are familiar from personal experience.

Leon Abbott the cult leader
Leon Abbot is the demon pride leader; he makes all the big decisions and has ways of bringing Council members round to his way of thinking.

He is the demons' self-proclaimed saviour and their hero. 

Leon Abbot is a liar and a manipulator. The truth means nothing to him.

Number One sees through him, but the other imps lap up his self-glorifying legends. Number One sees him as a loudmouth braggart, but the other imps and demons worship him, giving him the attention, adulation and total trust and obedience that he demands. 

He may have scales, horns and a tail, but Leon Abbot is  a classic, textbook case. Many of the things he says and does can be found in the list in the cult overview: for example, he has a superiority complex, sometimes behaves like an attack dog and presents himself as the sole supplier.

He is just the type to lead his followers to disaster.

The Demonic Bible
Leon Abbot brought a book back from the old world, a book that would save them all according to Abbot.

The book is called Lady Heatherington Smythe's Hedgerow. The demons treat it as their bible and use it not only as the source of all their knowledge about humans but also as a source of names:

“They didn't have real names, not until after they warped. Then they would be given a name from the sacred text.”

This explains the unusual names that demons have, names such as Leon Abbot for example. However, surely the book doesn’t contain nearly enough names to go round!