We're leaving together
But still it's farewell
And maybe we'll come back
To Earth -- who can tell?
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground
(Leaving ground)
Will things ever be the same again?
IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!*
*ahem* Sorry... my family does like to say that I have a song for every occasion...
It's the final countdown, folks -- we have ten chapters left to go! We're on the home stretch! We can do this...
Eden's father calls out for her from the main room, and Eden goes to stash the backpack under her bed but decides to wear it on her shoulders instead so no one steals it. Because a bright red backpack on your back isn't going to draw attention...
The sway of her hair against the back of her neck pleased her. The shortened dress moved with ease. How little the world had changed while, there in her room, Eden had shed an old skin. -- p. 241
I dunno, I think it takes more than a haircut and a change of outfit to turn over a new leaf. I know this is supposed to be an Important Haircut signifying her changing to something else, but I really haven't gotten the feeling that Eden has done a lot of changing. She's still the same self-centered clueless brat as before, after all. I'm looking for actual character development signifying a change, not just taking the author's word for it.
Dr. Newman's looking frailer, and Eden thinks that she needs to use the Life-Band as soon as possible to save him. What? Eden's actually thinking of someone other than herself for once? Color me shocked! Maybe there's been a tiny bit of character development after all.
"Something is different," her father said, cocking his head to one side.
Her hand fluttered to her hair. "Do I look all right?"
"Aha. Going native. Short hair will cool the body temperature."
Eden sank down on a stool. Why couldn't he see the deeper changes in her? -- p. 241
I think it takes more to "go native" than just cutting your hair... Also what's wrong with thinking practically?
Also, this constant insistence that everyone see the "Real Eden" and notice how much Eden has changed bugs me, though it might be for a more personal reason. As someone with Asperger's syndrome/high-functioning autism, it's difficult for me to read body language, facial expression, and other non-verbal communication signs. I've gotten better over the years, largely through self-education and plenty of trial-and-error, but I'm by no means proficient. So when people expect me to read their minds or know exactly what they're thinking when they say something or ask a question, it's irritating. Having to decipher the multiple layers of meaning behind a simple sentence makes conversation and relating to others a minefield, and I've bungled up many a conversation by misinterpreting something or taking words at face value. (And then people wonder why so many individuals with autism tend to be introverts or downright antisocial...)
I don't know how it is with neurotypical people or those who are better at reading non-verbal language than me, but I know dealing with someone like Eden, who gets downright pissy when no one reads her unspoken intentions or sees the "Real Eden," would drive me nuts in short order. And if her father has any sort of high-functioning autism (completely possible, given his single-minded obsession with genetics and his social awkwardness), then it's no wonder he's so bewildered whenever he takes what his daughter says and asks at face value...
Okay, I'm nitpicking at this point, moving on...
Eden tells her father she doesn't want to be a Pearl anymore. He insists that "we can't change who we are," while she retorts "Bramford did it." She says she wants to change like him, which confuses her father. No surprise, I'm sure most people would be bewildered at learning their child wanted to become a jaguar furry.
"I'm just saying that maybe we don't have to be what other people expect us to be. Maybe I can be who I really am. Although, I'm not sure who that is." She paused, relieved by the admission. "I can tell you one thing, Father. I'll never again be the Old Eden. I'd rather die."...
"I see," he said. "Of course if the right variables are in place and conditions permit, then, naturally, change is possible. After all, such is the history of man. Even you and I can change, if only in incremental ways." -- p. 242
Ah, so he's thinking she just wants to adjust to the surface world, while she's actually meaning she wants to be a she-cat. Glad we got that cleared up...
Lucky? He was dying. And the only man who ever had touched her heart was about to become a super jaguar -- not exactly good mating material. -- p. 243
I dunno, girl, given how gaga Bramford's furry-ness has gotten you over the course of this book, you just might find a super-jaguar attractive mating material.
...Primus, I feel dirty just typing that.
Excuse me while I shower...
Eden gripes that if Bramford gets himself killed, who's going to protect them? Her father assures her he'll survive, citing "parental knowingness."
"You're not his parent, Father," she said, unable to hide her resentment.
"Only in a metaphoric sense, of course. Creator to creature." -- p. 243
...wat? You're referring to a black person as a "creature?" I don't care if he's part jaguar now, that's not cool, Doctor. Some of my sympathy toward Dr. Newman is waning now...
He was the problem, Eden realized. If she couldn't stop Bramford, she had to stop her father and his crazy ideas.
"You can't do it," she said, rising to her feet.
"Do what?"
"Change Bramford again. You've already done enough damage. Why can't you just leave him alone? Think of his son." Think of me. -- p. 243
Aaaaaand selfish Eden is back. Welcome back, girl. We didn't miss you a bit.
Dr. Newman insists it's up to Bramford to decide Logan's future, not him, which is a reasonable enough argument. Eden says if her father changed the way he looks at himself, he'd see what she meant -- and no, I don't know what she means there.
"But this is an incredible opportunity, Daught."
She drew in a deep breath. "Why don't you ever call me Eden?"
"Daught is your nickname. I always call you that."
"It sounds like a classification."
"Precisely."
"But I'm not one of your experiments," she said in a firm, quiet voice. "I'm your daughter, Eden." -- p. 243-244
I hate to say this, but... I side with Eden on this one. "Daught" is an incredibly stupid nickname, and kind of impersonal to boot. Though it's also kind of stupid to assume that Eden's father is an emotionless, loveless cad just because he's a scientist.
Eden bids her father good night and goes to the bedroom. She pulls out the Life-Band and activates it, feeling a tingle in the sensors built into her head and a buzz that almost knocks her over. Apparently being linked back to the Life-Band is disorienting after being away from it for so long. Which is kind of weird, because it's only been a few days... unless I've been reading the passage of time all wrong, but I doubt it...
A butterfly flutters by the window, we get the Latin name for it (I swear Foyt does this only so she can show off how incredibly SMART she and her protagonist are), and then Eden sends a message to Shem, telling him to come get them and including their location.
Way to go, girl, you just screwed everyone. How much do people want to bet that the FFP is going to intercept this message and/or trail Shem to the village? For being our supposed "hero," Eden has done more to botch things for all characters involved than actually be useful.
Also Eden imagines the message rising over the jungle and flying away, pausing to inhale "exotic scents" and taste a "juicy papaya" before heading off for the Combs. Um... you have a fundamental misunderstanding of how electronic messages work.
Eden goes to bed, listening to birds and wondering when Bramford's coming back. She longs for her and Bramford to glide through the jungle together "like the girl and the jaguar in the painting," and throws in another "Aunt Emily" poem for good measure. Fraggit, throwing the words of some poor deceased poet into your story isn't going to elevate it to high literature status, stop doing it.
Eden sleeps restlessly that night because of the heat -- though if she grew up in the Combs, where a hundred and ten degrees was stated to be a cool day, why is the heat of the jungle bothering her so much? Internal consistency? Who needs it?
Another hot-and-sexy dream about Bramford, and Eden wakes up to realize someone's in the room with her. She sits up, shouting out Logan's name, just in time to see a little boy grab the paintbrush off the windowsill and run off. She tries to assure him she won't hurt him, but the kid just bolts. Can't say I blame him -- I'd run from Eden too.
Eden didn't want to scare him by giving chase. Besides, if Bramford caught her there [I'm assuming she means the hut where Logan lives], he would be furious. The last thing she wanted was for Logan to see them fight. No, she had to let the child come to her.
That's totally not something a predator would
say, am I right? *shivers*
She couldn't explain her protective feelings toward the boy or the urgent need to know him. Deep down, she felt certain that if she could win his trust, she might gain something even more valuable. Something a she-cat needed. -- p. 246
Nice to know that she only wants to get close to the boy for her own selfish needs. I'm still not seeing much evidence that this New Eden is any different from the old one, just without a black covering and with short hair.
Nine chapters to go. Let's stay strong, folks, there's cake at the end if we finish this!
Gotta have some incentive to finish this train wreck, right?
There's cake at the end? Please don't tell me the cake is a lie.
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