R.I.P. Brian Jacques
Mar. 5th, 2011 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aunt_zelda Brian Jacques is dead.
Once I took out all the Redwall books from the local library (which was a lot of books, considering some were tiny paperbacks and others were the huge hardcover versions. They left this huge gap on the self) when I decided to re-read the whole series up to its current point.
I need to get back into those books. They were so comforting. The Badger Lords in Salamandastron, Martin the Warrior's Sword, the water shrews with rapiers, the moles who talked about all the awesome food I suddenly started craving, the songs about delicious food and everlasting friendship and epic adventure, and Redwall Abbey itself. I'm not even religious and I wanted to live there.
I mean, I knew he was old, but ... this makes me sad inside. Today was just exhausting in every sense of the word. Hard work, extreme sleepiness, a political argument, animated conversations, singing, rearranging tables and chairs, a horrible surprise in a conversation, intense pain because it's That Time of the Month, and now this.
Brian Jacques provided a wonderful world for me in fifth and sixth grade (or was it seventh and eighth?), and for that, I mourn him.
Once I took out all the Redwall books from the local library (which was a lot of books, considering some were tiny paperbacks and others were the huge hardcover versions. They left this huge gap on the self) when I decided to re-read the whole series up to its current point.
I need to get back into those books. They were so comforting. The Badger Lords in Salamandastron, Martin the Warrior's Sword, the water shrews with rapiers, the moles who talked about all the awesome food I suddenly started craving, the songs about delicious food and everlasting friendship and epic adventure, and Redwall Abbey itself. I'm not even religious and I wanted to live there.
I mean, I knew he was old, but ... this makes me sad inside. Today was just exhausting in every sense of the word. Hard work, extreme sleepiness, a political argument, animated conversations, singing, rearranging tables and chairs, a horrible surprise in a conversation, intense pain because it's That Time of the Month, and now this.
Brian Jacques provided a wonderful world for me in fifth and sixth grade (or was it seventh and eighth?), and for that, I mourn him.
