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Q
- ISBN13: 9780156031967
- Condition: New
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The story of Q begins with the mystery surrounding the author(s). Luther Blissett, the “author” of Q is the name of a Jamaican soccer player who played for AC Milan in the early l980s. He was victimized by Italian fans, whose racist and nasty comments caused his career to take a dive. This hapless fellow inspired a group of Italian artists to appropriate his name and attach it to all manner of projects. There are Luther Blissetts writing, drawing, and carrying out elaborate hoaxes all over the world. Four young Italians in Bologna wrote Q in the mid 1990s. It remains a bestseller in Italy and has become a cult hit throughout Europe.
Q is set at the time of the Reformation. After Luther hangs his 95 theses on the door of the Wittenberg Church, nothing is ever the same in the hallowed halls of Christianity. One of the sects which sprang up during the Reformation was the Anabaptists, Christians who discredited infant baptism and believed that the Bible was the only rule for faith and life. Q follows the adventures of a student of Thomas Munzer, Anabaptist and leader of the abortive Peasants’ Revolt of 1524-25, who goes under many names, the first of which is Gustav Metzger, and Q, a papal informer. These two travel throughout Europe, trying to suss out each other’s identity, sending letters to Munzer and to the Pope, making friends and enemies, hating each other’s deeply felt convictions. Metzger is staying one step ahead of the heretic hunters, bent on destroying all supporters of Luther.
The translation is rickety, at best. There are long, sonorous passages filled with the formal language of the times, and then a jarring change to modern slang. “On the point of death they all denied everything that had been extorted from them with torture: small consolation, and I don’t know how many were able to die in peace because of it… It was November or December 1531, around the time Lienhard Jost kicked the bucket.” There is a tremendous amount of scholarship contained in the novel and the blend of fact and fiction allows room for intrigue, politics, betrayal, and that ever-familiar conundrum of terror in the name of religion. At over 750 pages, it requires a great deal of patience and attention on the part of the reader, not all of which is richly rewarded. A final cavil: Wittenberg is misspelled in the jacket copy. –Valerie Ryan
Q
Image by sampsyo
Q now has blue fingernails.
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Fittingly enough, this is the last picture I took of our boy, Q, this past Friday. We had to put him to sleep on Wednesday. It was not a complete surprise; he’d been diagnosed with renal failure a year ago. But he’d seemed just fine until Monday night, when his kidneys shut down and his health began to deteriorate rapidly. It was hard to watch, but that did make it easy to decide it was time to let him go.
Q was known as "Snuggles" at the Humane Society when we adopted him, but it took him about four years to live up to that name. "Q" was more appropriate: a godlike being that mucks things up with abandon then leaves it to the humans to set to rights (Trekkies will understand). Along the way, Q also became known as The Lump, The Dude, The Righteous Dude, Dunlap, Q-Bert, Q-Bie, The Food Alarm, W.O.F., Whiny Boy and Mum (at least to Nikita).
Our curtains will forever remain inadequately licked. Our garbage bags unmolested. Paper will now float aimlessly throughout the house without Q to hold it down. Nick’s keys and gadgets will wander off aimlessly. Birds will fly down the chimney. The couch will be shorted on fur. The Swiffer Monster will roam without challenge. My cosmetic sponges will no longer be subdued for their insolence. Tender spots of Nick’s anatomy will stop flinching at the merest hint of gray in his peripheral vision. No low food alarms will be sounded. Sinks will be less-frequently used as watering holes. Pillows will now be available to human heads for repose. Nick will be able to sit at his computer without a tiny whining noise from behind him, begging for attention (or permission to nap). Nikita will be left sorting out whose belly to stuff her little head into when she has had a bad day.
We will eventually get another cat, but we will never be able to *replace* Q. Our lives will be far less Q-uirky without him.
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