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antishurtugal_reborn2023-03-23 09:20 pm
City of Bones Spork: Chapter Three
Fun fact: the order of Speshul Snowflakes in this book was originally called “Darkhunters”, but then Clare got her ass sued off by Sherrilyn Kenyon, the author who actually owned the term (along with a whole bunch of other very specific shit Clare ripped off wholesale). It says a lot that it actually went to court, because it’s actually quite rare that an author gets sued for plagiarism. Most of the time it’s not considered worth the hassle (eg nobody suing Paolini despite there being grounds for it), though the difference in this case is that Paolini ripped off old established properties whose creators were in some cases not even alive any more, while Clare ripped off a contemporary and was therefore rivalling her for sales. Apparently it was settled out of court and she changed the name to something slightly less plagiaristic.
Anyway, we begin with Bitchy I mean Clary arriving at the venue, where Simon’s friend Eric is getting ready to perform while another friend, Matt, “was beating irregularly on a djembe”, which I’m assuming is a drum of some kind, and looking stoned.
Clary instantly declares that it’s going to suck “so hard” and they should run away (then why did you come in the first place? To spitefully show up your mother?). Simon says no, he’s “a man of my word” and offers to get coffee and what does she want.
Clary goes massively OOC purely in order to deliver another unfunny one-liner.
“Just coffee. Black—like my soul.”
CUTTING ROOM REMARK: 7
First of all that’s not funny, second it’s completely unoriginal, and third, what the hell kind of fifteen year old drinks coffee anyway? Let alone black coffee? It’s an acquired taste; every other kid I knew back in the day didn’t start drinking it until they were 17 or 18, and even then they started out softening the flavour with lots of milk and sugar. I’d find this waaay more believable if they were having hot chocolate or a milkshake or a Coke or something. Or kombucha if this is meant to be a pretentious arty place.
Simon goes to get the java like the doormat he is, and we get a random reference to A Tale of Two Cities, which I do not for one minute believe either of them has actually read.
Simon headed off toward the coffee bar, muttering under his breath something to the effect that it was a far, far better thing he did now than he had ever done before.
Why is this even here?
Oh right. Clare wanted to show off how OMG LITERARY she is. Nice try, loser.
Meanwhile Clary finds a spot up the back, hoping Eric won’t be able find them and ask what they thought of his poetry. Isn’t she just a peach? A random blond (yes, it’s spelled “blond” and not “blonde”) girl asks her if Simon is her boyfriend. Clary says no they’re just friends, and the “blond” says he’s cute and asks if he has a girlfriend. Clary for some reason hesitates before saying no, and the girl gets “suspicious” and asks if he’s gay. Um, what?
Clary is “spared” from having to answer this when Simon comes back complaining about how hot the coffee cups are. Clary checks him out and wonders if she finds him good looking, and when Simon asks why she’s staring she thinks she’d better “tell him” because “I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t.”
You, a bad friend?! Say it ain’t so!
She tells him that girl over there thinks he’s cute, but before he can get more detail off her the poetry reading begins.
It’s terrible, of course, and the prediction from last spork that it would be “horny poetry” actually turns out to be correct.
‘Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!' Turgid is my torment!’ Eric wailed. 'Agony swells within!'
OH GOD WHY DOES HE SOUND LIKE GREG??
Obviously it’s supposed to be bad, but it’s not bad in a charming or amusing way. It’s just… bad. And vaguely unsettling.
Meanwhile Clary and Simon have a painful conversation about his lack of a girlfriend, with him dropping the biggest hints on the planet and Clary still being too stupid to get it and even asking if he’s gay.
And then it gets worse, because someone makes a “derisive sort of cough” behind them and look who’s back.
He gets a massive chunk of description, of course.
Sitting on a faded green sofa a few feet away from her was Jace. He was wearing the same dark clothes he’d had on the night before in the club. His arms were bare and covered with faint white lines like old scars. His wrists bore wide metal cuffs; she could see the bone handle of a knife protruding from the left one. He was looking right at her, the side of his narrow mouth quirked in amusement. Worse than the feeling of being laughed at was Clary’s absolute conviction that he hadn’t been sitting there five minutes ago.
GET A ROOM: 4
Once again Simon can’t see him, but when Clary sees him leaving she jumps up and rushes after him, ditching her “best friend”. She finds the jackass lounging outside and we get a description of his “coppery gold” hair.
GET A ROOM: 5
Jace proceeds to mock poor old Eric:
“I said his poetry was terrible. It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random.”
I see Clare has decided to throw stones in the proverbial glass house.
Anyway, Clary and Jace start bickering and Jace continues to be a condescending bully to her, calling her “little girl” and then telling her what her name means. Oh GOD so her name is weird because it means something Speshul. I should have known.
“Pretty name. Like the herb, clary sage. In the old days people thought eating the seeds would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?”
Argh. And even when he’s being an ass to her Jace still has to throw in some Sue praise for having a special name.
He then proceeds to sneer at the idea of “declarations of love” and makes nasty bullying remarks about Simon being the most mundane mundie ever. Wow, screw you too. Am I actually supposed to like him? Or Clary for that matter? And as a side note, it’s now become clear that poor Eric literally just exists to be made the object of fun and mockery. And Simon isn’t faring much better. Because how dare they not be special snowflakes, I guess.
Anyway, Jace postures about how he’s a killer “but I know what I am” (an asshole?) and can Clary say the same. When she says yeah, duh, she’s a human being he’s like I don’t think so, lemme see your hand. He doesn’t find what he’s looking for and explains that “Shadowhunter children get Marked” on their hands at an early age. And Marked is capitalised just so we Know It’s Important. Apparently it makes them extra good with weapons. When Clary says she can’t see anything either he finally dials it back a bit and advises her to relax and let “it” come to her, whatever that means.
Sure enough, the Special Mark of Specialness appears, and Jace explains how they mark themselves with Marks which grant special abilities and usually fade away after use. Actually a pretty interesting concept and probably stolen. Sorry, but Carbon Copy here doesn’t get any benefit of the doubt.
Oh, and Clary also has “the Sight” because of fucking course it’s called that.
Jace tells her he’s gotta take her to “the Institute” to meet Dumbledore I mean Hodge, who wants to see her. We also get a quick tutorial in names: Shadowhunters hunt demons and also there are “Downworlders” who are pretty much every supernatural creature ever because of course they actually exist. Werewolves, vampires, fairies, etc. Congratulations, Clare, you’ve created the setting of EVERY GENERIC URBAN FANTASY EVER WRITTEN. You can see why she gets paid the big bucks.
Clary says maybe she doesn’t want to go with him and Jace basically says too bad I’m just gonna kidnap you. Because scaring her when she’s already in what should be a frightening situation is a great idea, no? You’d think he’d be wanting to reassure her and win her trust, but nope. He has to be the bullying ass no matter what.
Then Clary’s phone rings yet again and she answers it. It’s her mother, clearly in trouble and freaking out while something goes crash in the background. Mother Dearest screams at her not to come home, or rather “Terror scraped Jocelyn’s voice”, as Clare clumsily puts it. She tells her to go tell Luke that “he’s found me”. And then the call cuts off, just like in every movie with a scared phonecall ever.
Incredibly, despite the obvious monster noises she could hear in the background, Clary can’t seem to grasp that her mother’s phone obviously just got broken or dropped or something because her first thought is “why would her mother have hung up like that?”
headdesk
SHE WAS CLEARLY BEING ATTACKED YOU FUCKING MORON! WHY WOULD YOU EVEN THINK SHE HUNG UP WILLINGLY?? FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES? She should be staring at her phone in horror and saying oh no something happened to my mom and then calling the police.
Instead she just tries calling back and when that doesn’t work she drops her phone which instantly breaks and becomes unusable because of a single crack in the screen.
Hm, must be an iPhone.
She gets all upset and asks Jace for his phone. He doesn’t have one but offers to help, whereupon Clary claws him in the face and runs away back toward home. Where I sincerely hope she gets eaten by a basilisk or something, because this kid is too stupid to live.
End chapter.
GET A ROOM: 5
CUTTING ROOM REMARK: 7
BUFFY SUMMERS AND THE SORCERER'S STONE: 4
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Of course, her usual modus operandi for funny one-liners is stealing them from someone else. She literally became famous as a fanficcer for her snappy one-liners and 99% of them were lifted wholesale from Red Dwarf or Blackadder or some other far superior source, almost always completely uncredited so people thought it was her own work.
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Probably because she takes herself way too seriously.
I guess even a stopped clock is right twice a day. :p