|Reviews for Risen|
| Charactarantula 7/15/10 . chapter 1
This poem flowed considerably better than the one I just previously reviewed... I forget the title. I had a much easier time reading it because it wasn't bogged down with any million dollar words. Not that those words shouldn't be in a poem, but this required much less effort for me to read, which is somewhat refreshing, I guess.
Last stanza was my favorite. I have no idea what you're talking about, or your inside jokes, whatever, but the shoebox beneath the dirt, and the second last line:
"I wonder how many gardens
you have withered with those thin-pressed lips."
is fantastic. It is freaking awesome. I don't read Harry Potter, but I know Severus is the bad guy who turns out to not be the bad guy, so I have no idea what to make of the FINAL line, but it didn't take away from the poem, far as I can tell. I enjoyed it. Good word.
(RH Review Return)
| this wild abyss 7/15/10 . chapter 1
I like the tone of this quite a bit! It was brilliantly played, and the haunted tone of mystery had a great effect. At times I felt that you went a little too fast through the descriptions, but that's just me. I Love descriptions, especially in poetry. Amazing work!
| Kobra Kid 7/15/10 . chapter 1
Great job with the awesome imagery! :D. It was really lovely and keep on writing! :)
B. Cross from the RH
- Sorry this is a crappy review. I'm no good with poetry. :(
| May Elizabeth 4/27/10 . chapter 1
This is beautiful and really touching.
I loved this.
| deefective 3/26/10 . chapter 1
Lovely, lovely imagery throughout this piece. You do a great job of creating metaphors that provoke thought and force the reader to actually conjur up an image. I think the last stanza was my favorite just because the tone was gentle but not feeble. Almost as if the narrator was just speaking those words as they would any other, no blazing emotion or anything. But that worked there and it made that stanza even better.
Yes, I'm sure Severus would be very, very proud of Isca.
| S.C.R.E.A.M.I.N.G 3/23/10 . chapter 1
A poem like this always feels like it's one step out of my grasp... I'm almost there, and then it slips away and I'm not quite sure. The meaning is on the tip of my tongue. I loved the references to bezoars and Snape on a purely Harry Potter-esque level. I love Harry Potter. The overall wording was poignant and made me take a step back to read it again... your diction is far above most other writers publishing on this site. I don't only see your words, but I feel them and smell them and taste them too.
"Your smile is soft, but
I remember that your scowl could kill the deadliest
of nightshades. I wonder how many gardens
you have withered with those thin-pressed lips."
Wonderful lines, you drew me in, strangely enough, with your last stanza... that's where I connected on a personal level, and reread the poem. Very good work.
| DreamingEternal 3/22/10 . chapter 1
bezoars in the backyard - that sounds like it should be the name of a song or something
I love the imagery with all the different tree types, and flowers. My favorite word-combo in this piece is "stargazer lillies". there's just an air of poetic mystery about it that i just cant quite put my finger on. Plus, lillies make me think of Lily Potter, while we're talking about snape.
I have to admit, when i first read the second stanza, i read it as the willows were strangling the morning, not morning glories. It works beautifully either way, though.
"your scowl could kill the deadliest of nightshades" - what a dangerous person! lol, if anyone said this to me, i would definately take it as the compliment of all compliments.
Your tone starts out so serious for such a light-hearted piece, but it doesnt really subtract to the effect. It was just a little odd at first.
As always, your writing amazes me and i love how you transform a silly inside joke into something poetic and mysterious.
| Faithless Juliet 3/22/10 . chapter 1
You word choice and detail in this piece was top notch. Lines like: “Belladonna crawls along the woodwork/of weeping willows” and “There is a balcony carved from rowan
in the front yard” work really well to capture mystical and whimsical pictures of the scenes that you are trying to create, and even though you don’t ultimately use words or phrases that traditionally show devotion and love, it’s clear that the writer has a strong connection and affection for the subject.
I didn’t like the Severus bit at the end tough - I’ve read Isca’s character sketch on that subject, and I know that she favors him (in the literary since) but I really think that Harry Potter in general is so overused in terms of fan fiction, that it weights this piece down, and makes it less of what is should be. The rest of the piece is very original and an insightful read, I just think that it takes away from the strength of the rest of the piece. Keep up the good work.
| JaffaFoose 3/21/10 . chapter 1
Oh, wow. This is spectacular. I don’t feel like I have any right to be reviewing this, but here goes.
Your flow is wonderful. Starting just with the opening line, I was pulled into your world and swept forward off my feet. Your words move through the scene with staggering fluidity, keeping me interested at every step.
You’ve got fantastic imagery here. The second stanza, especially, is brilliant. “…their roots reach for the sky as they strangle the morning glories that crumble in the pre-rain gloom.” Here you casually yet magnificently reveal our setting as a gloomy one. And then you press right on forward with another great image with fantastic pace: “Skylarks lull crabapple trees to sleep, singing as the dawn arises from behind a veiled fog.” Just lovely.
The subject was a bit hazy for me, but that’s understandable, as it’s apparently laced with some references to something I haven’t read. I think I managed to understand the bulk of it pretty well, though.
From the start you establish this murky and gloomy tone which underlines the entire piece in an intriguing way. “You are the shadow-spectre painted on these white-washed walls,” you say, and then you lead us on a dark little journey. And yet there’s a little highlight of affection, as it feels like we’re reading of an experience shared between two very good friends. An interesting touch of light in the gloom.
The rhythm was perfect. It hooked me from the start and didn’t let me go until the story was finished.
And the ending was stunning. The Snape reference was a bit odd from my standpoint, but what came before it made it work: “Your smile is soft, but I remember that your scowl could kill the deadliest of nightshades. I wonder how many gardens you have withered with those thin-pressed lips.” My favorite part of the entire thing, I think.
With an impeccable grasp on the use of language, you’ve crafted an extremely enjoyable piece here. I loved it.
| skyward squidly squee 3/21/10 . chapter 1
-sigh- I feel ill-prepared to review this, but it seems I must. Like I've said, your writing intimidates me. ;P It's insanely amazing.
I adore the imagery in the first stanza. "the shadow-spectre painted upon these white-washed walls, the phantasm inked" and "the ghost that haunts the stargazer lilies". It's like Grudge imagery; I have to love it, and I do.
The part about the bezoars. That's a part to remember. Like, really. Love "Your smile is soft, but I remember that your scowl could kill the deadliest of nightshades." - And the last line in that stanza - I have to agree with Isky.
You know I think this is amazing. And I'm going to have to work to outdo you here. -grins- I sense a rivalry coming on. Although I adore you too much for too terrible a rivalry, heh.
- giant squid.
| Kate Marshall 3/21/10 . chapter 1
What I like best about this poem is your superb alliteration. Really, it's amazing. The alliteration gives this a nice and unique rhythm, along with a beautiful sound. :)
Second, your imagery was well done. Tastefully done. The images you chose enhance your thoughtful, somewhat morose tone. It's easy to see you picked the imagery carefully.
Be proud of this. :) It's a lovely poem, and it really does remind me of Isca!
Kate, EF RG review
| Isca 3/20/10 . chapter 1
And here begins the epic-length review. Thank you for writing this, Cyne. You're a godsend. :)
The title: Risen. A subtle allusion to Arise. That in and of itself is a grand compliment to me. My second thought is that the word "risen" is synonymous with the word "ascended." And that's precisely what love does to people: it lifts us up where we belong.
"You are the shadow-spectre." That's my idea of Heaven. The Shadowlands. A place where the shadows are as cold as starlight. I feel safe in the shadows. Nice 's' alliteration, by the way.
"Painted upon these white-washed walls." Okay, as an inside joke, the 'w' alliteration here sounds like: why-wah wah. WAH WAH LOL! Snape: "She is wah of wah's." I like your use of the word "painted" here, as well - as if shadows streaming down a wall are somehow sacred and artistic.
"The phantasm inked on maple scrolls grown dusty with age." This is one of my favourite lines from the poem; it's absolutely masterful. The word "inked" makes me imagine a shadow embedded in an ancient manuscript; a little reminder of sorrow and love. The "dusty" part reminds me of a book of poetry that Arise gave me that is "yellowing and dank with hope." I love maple trees in the autumn, as well, so that's a very poignant image for me. The "age" part at the end is a very nice allusion to the age-gap between Arise and I; that's very crafty of you.
“The ghost that haunts the stargazer lilies blooming in the mud.” I have always been fond of ghost imagery; they seem like such sorrowful spirits, and yet, I admire their darkling nature. I absolutely love the fact that you paired something vibrant (flowers) with something gritty (the drudgery of the mud). This contrast adds to the tone of the poem: it’s melancholic, and yet, it’s laced with strength and hope. Lilium stargazer. Stargazer lilies are my favourite flowers; they’re only for Arise, in my mind. Snape would say they’re for Lily. :)
“Belladonna crawls along the woodwork of weeping willows.” The ‘w’ alliteration here works well to enhance the “woeful” tone of the poem. Belladonna, commonly known as Deadly Nightshade, from the Solanum family of plants. It’s my favourite (but, of course, you already know that, Cyne). Warning: don’t eat the berries, kids, or you’ll die. I love that Belladonna masks its poison by making the berries taste rather sweet. But poison? Bah. We all know I’m going to have a patch in my garden dedicated entirely to the Nightshade family regardless of its danger to me. As for the rest of the line, I’m a fan of darkwood; weeping willows are such gentle-hearted trees too. Wise Ones. Sages.
“As they strangle the morning glories.” Yes! The Nightshade’s poison will waft over to the vibrant, living flowers and kill them. The tone of this line is startling - it’s so profound. It’s like you know that you should close your eyes, because you know that the morning glories, the beauty in the world, is about to die, but you can’t help but stare on as the Nightshade works its magic. The death imagery here is utterly enthralling.
“Skylarks lull crabapple trees to sleep.” Skylarks. Such little things. They’re beautiful. I love the idea that birdsong can lull a tree to sleep. The crabapple tree is bitter, and yet, I have the feeling that in sleep, it is beautiful in its vulnerability. I also like the way in which the word “lull” connects back to the Nightshade reference (seeing as it can make you drowsy).
“The dawn arises.” She is the dawn to my dusk.
“A veiled fog.” A fog that is itself a fog. A metaphor of a metaphor. I like that. I also like the word “veiled” here - it reminds me of the softness of death.
“There is a balcony carved from rowan in the front yard.” This is, by far, my favourite line from the poem. The tone is both striking and moving. I have a vivid image in my mind of the country house, the balcony, the garden. A secret garden, you said once. And that the balcony is made of rowan…I can’t even describe to you what that feels like to me…I daresay I would never want to be anywhere else. Rowan is my soul. ;)
“Where we shall sit in the dying half-light and sip gently-simmering jasmine.” The words “dying half-light” are quite impactful. Is it strange that the time when I feel most “alive” is the time when the light “dies”? The colours at dusk are sacrosanct. I know we’d watch them in bliss. And darling, if I knew you were coming for a visit, I would simmer the jasmine blossoms for hours in advance, so that the flavouring was just right. Jasmine flowers are usually symbols of femininity and adornment. I like the way in which that connects back to the “sacred” aspect of Arise.
“And I will ask you whether the bezoars are kept in the pantry or beneath the floorboards.” Well, when they’re not in the shoebox, they’re kept in a glass jar in the pantry. The “floorboard” part is so hard-hitting it’s phenomenal. No one else may understand this part, but thank you, Cyne. And, just because I can, I will remind you of this: "You should invite people over to your house for tea and say: 'Oh, and by the way, you don't have to worry about the Nightshade - I keep the bezoars in the pantry.'" -Cyne
I like the internal rhyming at the end between the words “say” and “away.” It connects the ending stanzas together well.
“They are stowed away in the shoebox.” I hide things in the shoebox, like sorrow or pain, but here you put the bezoars, a stone meant to HELP you; perhaps, sometimes, the only thing that CAN save us is sorrow: it lets us know that we’re still alive, no matter how broken we may feel.
“Buried beneath the dirt.” The ’b’ alliteration here made me envision a shoebox that is “beating.” Perhaps when I’m not keeping the bezoars there, I keep beating hearts, instead. No matter what’s in the shoebox, the fact that I hide things in the ground, is quite profound: I’m nourishing that sorrow-love. That’s so beautiful to me.
“Your smile is soft.” Indeed. A twitch of the lips. It’s rare, but I suppose that’s what makes it so special when you do happen to catch me smiling.
“Your scowl could kill the deadliest of Nightshades.” Ah, well, I had a great mentor. Squid calls him “His Capeliness” now. There go the morning glories: “Every time Snape scowls, a flower withers.” -Cyne
“I wonder how many gardens you have withered with those thin-pressed lips.” This is another one of my favourite lines. The tone is so strong and majestic. I cannot think of anything else to say other than: this is one of those lines that stick with you for the rest of your life.
“Severus would be proud.” I cried. Seriously. That is the greatest compliment anyone could ever give me. That man is my hero. If he’s proud of me, I must have done something grand to desire such praise from him.
Thank you so much, Cyne. I don’t deserve a poem like this. The fact that you took time out of your life to write something about me is just…mind-blowing. You’re too kind. *Isky Hug*