Shel: So, after this forced heart-to-heart, do you find the warden more relatable? I can't help but think he's still playing his beloved game of chess.
Monica: He seems sketchy. Perhaps the years of being Warden have twisted him into a shell of his former self, and way deep down there’s a kind, loving father trying to get out… but I still don’t trust him.
Shel: I think he was most likely a bit twisty to begin with. Finn asking for the background story of the cave feels very forced. Kind of like, "for all you readers at home" kind of moment.
Monica: OMG! I totally agree. To be honest, it’s the first time that the narrative stuttered – I’ve been enjoying this book so much so far, that I definitely noticed this scene. (Isn’t that sad? That the iffy parts are so much more noticeable in good books, because they stand out more?)
Shel: I know, right? It's like the curse of the good writer. Well, I got my wish about Incarceron becoming more of a character. I guess I'm just glad it recycles.
Monica: Right, but it recycles PEOPLE! It’s very soylent-green-ish. I’m not sure I approve. But, I suppose when you’re a crazed sentient jail who has been left all on your lonesome for umpteen years, you make do with what you’ve got.
Shel: Of course, a prison must be frugal! How convenient that they discovered that the keys can make you invisible to surveillance. Just in time!
Monica: I’m waiting for the keys to develop more magical powers. If you twist the top clockwise, it simulates bird songs! You can inflate one end to make a zeppelin! It doubles as a coffee-maker! It’s a LIGHTSABER!!
Shel: That would be pretty awesome. How do I get me one of 'em keys? I could use it to help keep my students interested in class! If they participate they get to see a lights show while sipping lattes and listening to a gaggle of geese's rendition of Row, row, row your boat.
All right, friends -- that's all Shel and I have for you today.
Join us on... Tuesday? Yes, let's say Tuesday. Join us on Tuesday for a discussion of pages 305-364. It'll be epic.
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