"What have you heard of the dashing Captain Cully and his band of freemen? Have a taco."

I just finished reading The Last Unicorn (oh why did I wait until my 20s to read this?) and later today I'll read its coda, Two Hearts. But I was browsing the back of my hardcover, which has an index of Peter S. Beagle's published work, and what do I find listed under essays but this?---

"The Good Vampire: Spike and Angel", Peter S. Beagle. Five Seasons of Angel, 2004.


OH MY @$&)*#&$*()#&(@!.

So, not only is the book every bit as amazing as I remember the film being, in fact better times about 10 because the descriptions are just as wonderful as the dialogue, and not only was I reading it the whole time thinking of both my childhood, my dreams of how to write fiction well, and how I know somewhere in my bones that at least one of the people who made Princess Tutu must have watched/read this story, but now all that is topped with the pure and untainted joy of realizing that the author is a BTVS fan.

Who wrote an essay about Spike and Angel character analysis.

That was published in a collection.

That I can hunt down and read in the bookstore.

This is a freaking great morning already! I love discovering fellow fans, even if I don't interact with them personally. Just knowing that someone whose writing I now admire ardently also loved my all-time favorite tv show enough to write an essay about it twists the plaits of my heart. So I will top this joyous entry with an icon that calls to mind another great fantasy story with the words of another great fantasy song: truisms both.

ETA: ( some of rasielle's comments on Princess Tutu and The Last Unicorn, spoilers for tLU but not its sequel, spoilers for PT, long ramblings on similarities and reincarnated fictional characters and why Schmendrick=Fakir=Peter S. Beagle in my head. )

Novella: "Two Hearts" by Peter S. Beagle

There are good books, there are great books, and there are the rights books.

The kind of book, or short story, or poem or song, where when it finishes you smooth out dog-ears, fold the cover back to its original position, and sit on your bench/chair/bed with a wide, dopey smile on your face.

There's many books that I love. There's even more books that I like. But there's so very few books that I read and say, "That was it." No complaints between the good parts, no lingering nits over this or that, no rationalizing the fact that the okay parts don't matter because the parts that were good were so good. Sometimes a book doesn't make me want to pick it a part, make a list of pros or cons, or analyze it into pieces.

The Last Unicorn and its coda Two Hearts (an ending so right and perfect that I could shoot JKR in the boot with a nailgun and tell her to stay put while I show her what an epilogue is for) left me with such a happy sense of completion and wonderfulness that the absolute last thing I want to do is give it a proper review.

I have to say, the only other book that left me completely satisfied without any critical reaction was The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. I'm sure any number of critics and readers are happy to dig into that one, but after listening to it unabridged at least six times in the author's British accent and laughing every single time, the first time when I was about 8 or 9, I really could never say anything about it except Je t'aime toujours, and shrug.

My mood icon is "content". Yes, I am content. Peter S. Beagle's story leaves me contented. Satisfied, inspired, and good. That's what books should do, even the sad ones.

Next: finish The Master & Margarita, then move to The Picture of Dorian Gray and learn to properly misquote Oscar Wilde