I recently read a book that made me giggle...incessantly. And out loud. Good times. I would be shocked if MMMono has not yet read it, as it is Neil Gaiman. And it is set in England. The book is Good Omens and I found it to be quite fabulous at times, though a bit silly.
A segment that struck me follows. A note for those who have not read the text: Crowley is a demon who has been living on Earth for all of human history tempting people to be bad.
In fact the only thing in the flat that Crowley devoted any personal attention to were the houseplants. They were huge and green and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves.
This was because, once a week, Crowley went around the flat with a green plastic mister, spraying the leaves, and talking to the plants.
He had heard about talking to plants in the early seventies, on Radio Four, and thought it an excellent idea. Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did.
What he did was put the fear of God into them.
More precisely, the fear of Crowley.
In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or just didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. 'Say goodbye to your friend,' he'd say to them. 'He just couldn't cut it ...'
Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large, empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.
The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.
Friends, I've told you about Spidey-the-spider-plant-that-virtually-refuses-to-live. I coo to it; I love it; I water it with purified mineral water; I tuck it in every night and sing it to sleep. It hates me. It refuses to be green and pretty and survives only by spite so that I cannot, in good conscience, get a new shiny green plant that actually loves me. Obviously, I need to sell my soul so that I can strike fear into its heart so that it will grow and be pretty and verdant.
1 comment:
Blahahaha. I own two copies of it -- the white cover version and the black cover version. I love that book with all my heart and soul. Thank God you have finally read it, so we can giggle together about secret service agents feeding the ducks. ;)
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