Witch Week Day Seven: Wrap-up and 2018 Announcement

It’s been another wonderful Witch Week, and I’d like to thank everybody who made it possible: Chris, Laurie, and Katie for three fascinating guest posts; Tachyon Publications for a fabulous giveaway; and everyone who posted, linked up, and commented. You are the best!

Regarding next year, I’m sad but also somewhat relieved to say that I’ve decided not to host this event in 2018. This has become an increasingly busy time of year for me both at work and at home, and when the excitement of hosting a blog event starts to morph into dread, I think it’s time to stop.

However, I will cherish the memories of the last four years, with all the blogging connections I have made, the books we’ve read, and the fun we’ve had together. Being able to do something like this was one of the major reasons I wanted to start a blog, and from my point of view it’s been a smashing success.

For the record, here are the links for all the Master Posts from each year. If you haven’t already, do have a look through for a rich and inspiring exploration of the many faces of fantasy literature.

Thanks again to all of you for sharing this event with me, and I look forward to more reading adventures.

Witch Week Day Six: The Buried Giant Readalong

Kazuo Ishiguro, The Buried Giant (2015)

A few days after I announced that The Buried Giant would be our Witch Week readalong book, author Kazuo Ishiguro became a Nobel Laureate. The magic of Witch Week may be stronger than we realize…

Intrigued by the synchronicity, I embarked on my third Ishiguro novel. I had been wowed by The Remains of the Day, and absorbed by Never Let Me Go, but I had a harder time getting into this one. Though in those other books Ishiguro brilliantly worked with unreliable narration and hidden realities, in the end an astute reader was able to figure out what was going on. In Giant the fog never seemed to lift, and while this may well have been the author’s intention, it made it hard for me to feel connected to the story.

A brain-fuddling fog is indeed very much part of the narrative, as the characters themselves experience and describe it. In a post-Arthurian Britain (Arthur being conceived as the quasi-historical sixth century war leader), an elderly couple sets out on a journey to find their son. Beatrice and Axl are devoted to each other, but they can’t quite remember why. Nor can they recall why their son went away, where exactly he is, or what happened during the recent war between Britons and Saxons that has left both peoples uneasily co-habiting on their small island.

As they join up with some other wanderers — one of Arthur’s knights, a Saxon warrior, and an outcast boy — they become convinced that the source of their befuddlement is a she-dragon who is exhaling a fog of forgetfulness over the land. Beatrice is determined to overcome the dragon and recover their memories of her life together with Axl; he, meanwhile, begins to have discomforting experiences of a painful past and doubts about the future.

Ishiguro writes in a vaguely sing-songy style that seems to be an attempt to recall medieval texts without being too self-consciously archaic. His narration jumps about, mostly centered on Beatrice and Axl but with excursions into other minds and points of view. It’s a scattered, schizophrenic kind of tale, in which random, partial memories surface but seldom cohere into full realization.

I have to admit that I had a difficult time puzzling out what was metaphor, what was delusion, and what was reality, and that this made me uncomfortable. There were some indications that what certain characters described as otherworldly creatures or phenomena (e.g. ogres) had a more mundane explanation, and that the pre-conceptions of the characters determined the world they perceived. This is an interesting philosophical point, but disorienting when applied to a story, in which generally the author is performing the magic trick of making us believe in something that doesn’t exist. It matters not whether that something is a dragon or a duchess or a dachshund; within the world of a story it must gain being and presence, or why bother with it?

This dis-orientation was inconsistent. There were times when it was very hard to imagine an alternative explanation for what the characters were describing, other than that they were all completely insane. And yet, if that were the case, what could be gained from entering into their fractured minds? Were we meant to reflect on our own self-delusional versions of an impenetrable reality? That’s a stage on everyone’s quest, but to me it cannot be the end. I believe in meaning and wholeness, and if that betrays my lack of sophistication as a reader and human being, so be it. I’m not interested in obfuscation or mystification for its own sake, only when it helps to break us through to a higher level of understanding.

Though I enjoyed parts of the journey, appreciated much of the imagery, and grew to care for some of the characters, in the end I was left frustrated and dissatisfied. Perhaps a reread will enlighten me further as to what Ishiguro might have been trying to say, but right now I’m not at all sure.

If you read the book, what did you think? Please share your own ideas in the comments, or link up your own posts on the Master Post. I’m happy to read dissenting opinions, and grateful for any light you can shed on this conundrum.


Witch Week Day Five: The Discovery of King Arthur (Guest Post)

Another blogger who responded to my call for Witch Week posts was Katie of Doing Dewey, who reads and reviews all kinds of books but has a particular love for nonfiction. Along with posting several book reviews from various genres every week she runs a weekly feature, Nonfiction Friday, where you can get the latest nonfiction news, share your posts about nonfiction books, and find other readers who love nonfiction. Katie is also one of my fellow co-hosts for Nonfiction November, currently taking place this month.

She offered to review The Discovery of King Arthur by Geoffrey Ashe (first published in 1985), and though she can’t wholeheartedly recommend it, it does sound like it contains many fascinating facts that invite further exploration. Read on for an intriguing preview…


The Discovery of King Arthur

By Katie Wilkins

The Arthur legend has captivated people since at least the middle ages and continues to fascinate us today. From new bookish retellings to TV shows, this is a story people tell again and again. In The Discovery of King Arthur, historian Geoffrey Ashe explores the possibility that a historical figure inspired the myth and considers what cultural factors give this myth its enduring appeal.

For me, the experience of reading this book was hit or miss — 3 of 5 stars. Sometimes the author would share a relevant snippet of history, told in narrative form. Those bits could be extremely entertaining. They read like a story and often contained delightful, absurd anecdotes that made me laugh. Other parts that focused on the dissection of old texts were too dry for me. I’d definitely not recommend this book as a first experience with nonfiction, for fear it might put people off the genre. However, if you’re willing to persevere through some dry sections to learn more about an intriguing topic, this could be the book for you.

To give you an idea of what you might expect, I’ll leave you with some of the fun facts that stuck with me from this book. No spoilers on the answer to the question of Arthur’s basis in reality 🙂

  • The same text that is the source of many key parts of the Arthur myth also inspired Shakespeare’s Lear
  • Vortigern, a villain of the Arthurian legend, did have some roots in history, although Vortigern was not a name. Rather, it is Celtic for “overking”
  • The author suggests that the Arthur legend was born out of a 5th century hope for a “world restorer’, someone who would rebuild the empire. This constant hope led one poet to write hyperbolic paeans to no fewer than 3 emperors he thought were ‘the one’ in his lifetime.
  • One of the sources referenced by the main text this book analyzes was written by a monk who wrote a little bit about history, but was mostly just grumpy about how politicians in his day were ruining everything.
  • Scholars were debating when/if Arthur lived as early as the 13th century
  • Some authors, such as T.H. White, opposed the search for a historical basis for the Arthur myth on the grounds that it would reduce a great story to a disappointing reality

And there’s more where that came from, so if you enjoyed those tidbits, consider picking up The Discovery of King Arthur to learn more!

Katie’s blog bio says, “I love reading in every genre, but my favorites lately have been nonfiction, historical fiction, and literary fiction. I’m particularly passionate about nonfiction because I feel like the genre doesn’t get enough love from readers, even though there are nonfiction books to suit any interest. When I’m not blogging, you’ll find me playing computer games with friends, going on hikes, working as a computational biologist, and doing photography.”

Witch Week Day Four: A Gallery of Arthurian Art

With so many magical and dramatic characters and scenes to explore, the Arthurian legend has long been a rich source of inspiration for artists and illustrators. To complement our literary studies, I thought it would be fun this year to look at some pictures as well. Here are a few images that caught my eye, all drawn from The Camelot Project, a great resource for anyone interested in the subject.


Arthur Rackham – How a Maiden Bare in the Sangreal


H.J. Ford – Excalibur Returns to the Mere


The High Mysterious Call – Willy Pogany


Julia Margaret Cameron – Vivien Enchants Merlin


He gave him such a buffet on the helm – W. Russell Flint


Max Harshberger – Tristan Harping


Aubrey Beardsley – How Four Queens Found Launcelot Sleeping


Edward Burne-Jones – The Sleep of King Arthur in Avalon


Gustave Dore – The Enchanter and His Book


William Holman Hunt – The Lady of Shalott

Do you have favorite Arthurian artists or works of art? Please share them in the comments!

Witch Week Day Three: In Search of the Round Table (Guest Post)

When I put out a call for bloggers interested in writing a post on an Arthurian topic, Laurie from Relevant Obscurity responded saying she’d be interested in looking into the lore of the Round Table. It sounded like a terrific idea, and so it proved to be — she came up with a wealth of fascinating information about history and legend that certainly makes me think about the this seemingly prosaic object in a different way. Enjoy!


In Search of the Round Table

by Laurie Welch

Several months ago I came across an article about a group of researchers in England who were researching the Round Table of King Arthur. They claimed the Table might not have been a table at all, but instead an amphitheater abandoned by the Romans in the city of Chester. Still round and with circular seating, but not a table.

What I found was the Round Table, like all of the stories of King Arthur and Camelot, has its origins in myth, magic, religion, literature and speculative history. It is described in many ways and has associations with such diverse people and events as Merlin, the Last Supper and the court of Charlemagne!

Round Table Basics

The Round Table is first mentioned by the 12th century chronicler Wace, in Roman de Brut, which asserts the round shape prevents quarrels among the knights so no one can proclaim himself more important than another. When compared to a square table, there is a ‘head’ and seating descending further in order of importance.

In Sir Thomas Malory’s 14th century, Le Morte d’Arthur, Merlin conjures the Round Table to reflect the shape of the world and the diversity of its inhabitants. Many writers use a word like ‘democratic’ to describe the equality among the knights and how the round shape of the Table supports this Arthurian knightly value.

The Siege Perilous or Perilous Seat is the empty seat set aside for the most pure of knights or the one who discovers the Holy Grail.

The shape of the Table corresponds to traditional Christian imagery that Jesus and the Apostles sat a circular table at the Last Supper.

The seating capacity of the Round Table varies from 52 to 1600, depending on the source.

Archaeological Sources

Scattered throughout Britain are numerous sites called King Arthur’s Round Table. They appear as henges (Neolithic stone circles) and amphitheaters.

The town of Caerleon in Wales was once the site of a Roman fortress, but it is so well-known in Arthurian tales if Camelot existed some say this would be its capital. It is tantalizing to imagine King Arthur and the knights planning and feasting away in the grassy oval area known as King Arthur’s Round Table!

So here we see the earliest examples of the Round Table as outdoor round stone structures, or round areas natural to the landscape. Maybe the researchers are right?

Literary Sources

Irish tales describe Celtic warriors meeting in circles to prevent fights of primacy. Wace may have known of these stories, but he certainly would have been aware of the biographies of Charlemagne that mention his round table decorated with a map of Rome. Whatever the source, Wace makes it clear that Arthur was conscious of a need for parity among his nobles and knights to prevent conflict.

In Le Morte d’Arthur, Merlin creates the Round Table and gives it to Uther Pendragon, Arthur’s father. At his death it is passed to Guenever’s father King Leodegrance, who gives it to Arthur at their marriage with a complimentary 150 knights. “I shall give him the Table Round, which Uther Pendragon gave me, and when it is complete, there is an hundred knights and fifty.” The fact that both of their fathers were in possession of the fabled table is an interesting twist. Is this a symbol of the legitimacy of the union of the two houses?

The poet Layamon in his early 13th century work, Brut, an adapted version of Wace’s work written in Middle English, describes a great quarrel among the knights at a Yuletide feast which led to the construction of an enormous round table to keep the peace among equals. It is intriguing to note in light of the large amount of knights mentioned in the sources, the Cornish carpenter who made this table made it transportable!

Literary accounts of the Round Table differ on its size according to which author is describing it. I am assuming, though perhaps wrongly, that the number 1600 is a way to say there are “a lot of knights.” But if the researchers are correct about the Round Table being an amphitheater, then this number has some basis in truth.

The Siege Perilous

 In each literary iteration of the Round Table, there is a special seat designated for an unnamed knight. The French poet, Robert de Boron, in a late 12th century work called, Didot-Perceval says Merlin reserves the seat for the knight who finds the Holy Grail and because the seat can tell who is in it, anyone else will be swallowed up by the earth. Other sources say Jesus designates the seat for Joseph of Arimathea when he is given charge of the Christian community at his death.

Legends have Merlin setting aside this seat for the one true and pure knight. In other stories, the seat is designated specifically first for Perceval, then later for Sir Galahad. All stories make it clear, however, that to sit in this seat without proper sanction, is fatal.

The Last Supper and the Holy Grail

In Robert de Boron’s other Arthurian tale, Merlin, written in the 1190s, Merlin creates the Round Table in imitation of the Last Supper and of Joseph of Arimathea’s Holy Grail table. At this table, there is seating for only 12 with an additional empty one to mark Judas’s seat.

The 13th century Old French, La Queste del Saint Graal, shows Merlin’s creation of the Round Table meaning more than that of a table. The Round Table refers to the knights themselves, the flesh and blood men in all their variety devoted to Arthur:

“The table is called the Round Table because it symbolizes rightfully the whole world. For you can also see that the knights come to that Table from every land where chivalry is practiced, be it Christian or pagan practice. And when God has granted them the right to be a companion of the Round Table, they consider themselves more honored than if they had conquered the whole world.”

The notion of Christians and non-Christians in brotherhood at this time is remarkable.

Finally, in the Didot-Perceval, a supernatural connection exists between the Round Table, the table where Jesus holds the Last Supper, and the table on which Joseph of Arimathea places the Holy Grail. Together they symbolize the Trinity.

Round Tables in History and Popular Culture

In the Middle Ages ‘Round Tables’ were events of entertainment produced throughout Europe in imitation of Arthur’s court, with those attending taking on the personae of the knights and ladies that made up the original Round Table nobility. The events mimicked the court of Camelot and featured dancing, jousting and feasting.

In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the classic and heroic values associated with the court at Camelot were seen as ideals for a boys’ organization. Called the Knights of King Arthur, the roundness of Arthur’s table reflected the ethics of equality and democracy made concrete.

In the present day, we keep alive the Round Table and its principles of democracy and dialogue when we have ‘round table discussions,’ with the understanding that each participant has the right to speak and will get equal time to present their point. We use this phrase and its concepts even if the actual table is not round, as in ‘round table talks.’


My post is by no means exhaustive. There are centuries’ worth of legends and stories of King Arthur, his knights and their exploits; over a millennium if you count the archaeological sites. And an almost equal amount of interpretation. It is certain there will always be new discoveries by researchers, archaeologists, historians and others who will whet our appetite on the location of Camelot, the many quests of Arthur and his knights and certainly in the mysteries of the Round Table.

As we go through Witch Week, please let me know in the comments below what other mentions and configurations of the Round Table you have found in your readings.


Historians locate King Arthur’s Round Table

Ashe, Geoffrey. King Arthur’s Avalon: The Story of Glastonbury. New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1958.

Biddle, Martin. King Arthur’s Round Table: An Archaeological Investigation. UK: The Boydell Press, 2000.

de Briel, Henri, and Manuel Herrmann. King Arthur’s Knights and the Myths of the Round Table: A New Approach to the French Lancelot in Prose. Paris: Librairie C. Klincksieck, 1972.

How to Set Up a Knights of King Arthur for Boys, 1915

The literary works can be found online:

Robert Wace, Roman de Brut

Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d’Arthur

Layamon, Brut

Robert de Boron, Dido-Perceval and Merlin

Author unknown, La Queste del Saint Graal

In her blog bio, Laurie says, “I love old books, especially the classics of 19th and early 20th century Britain and the US…I live in Huntington Beach, California with my trusty canine companion, Jess. I love to ride along the Santa Ana River snapping photos of the waterbirds along the way and trail walk in the nearby mountains. I am a Sunday drive enthusiast, an old movies maven and a vegan gastronome reveling in the diverse cuisines of Southern California.”

Witch Week Day Two: Giveaway Day

This year, I’m excited to present a double giveaway — two books, in two different formats, thanks to Tachyon Publications.

The Emerald Circus by Jane Yolen, due to be released next week, is a master storyteller’s riff on various well-known tales including The Wizard of Oz, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, and of course the Arthurian legend. Three Arthurian stories are included, of which my favorite is the novella Evian Steel, a striking re-imagining of the forging of Arthur’s sword in connection with the power of women’s magic. If only Yolen had been able to fulfill her intention of making this the central portion of a novel … perhaps one day she will?

A new introduction by Holly Black gives a tribute to Yolen by the next generation of fantasy writers, and each story has an endnote about its creation and original publication, paired with a thematically related poem — quite a unique feature!

As if this weren’t enough, the lucky winner will also receive a copy of The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia McKillip, a fantasy classic in a lovely new edition (click on the link for my recent review).

To enter to win one of each of these magical books, please use the Rafflecopter widgets below, with options for paperback copies (US only) and e-book versions (International).

US entrants may enter both giveaways but cannot win both. The winner for the paperback giveaway will be drawn first, and will be disqualified for the e-book giveaway.

Good luck!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Witch Week Day One: Rex Futurus (Guest Post)

This year, I’m delighted that Chris of Calmgrove, an Arthurian scholar and frequent Witch Week contributor, agreed to give his personal perspective on Arthurian literature, a genre that has sometimes annoyed him with its forays into bad history and bad fiction — but has also given him much pleasure, especially in the more adventurous “freestyle” treatments of the legend that attempt to take us out of our comfort zones. In his survey of some of the 20th century titles he finds worth reading (and a few he doesn’t), he’s named some fascinating-sounding books I’ve never heard of, and I can’t wait to try to track them down. Read on, and see what treasures you will find.


Rex Futurus

by Chris Lovegrove

I have a confession: I’m not a fan of Arthurian fiction. There, I’ve said it. Why so? It comes from a half century of involvement in Arthurian matters, from archaeological research to editing a society journal, during which I came into forced contact with innumerable theories about ‘rex quondam’ in fiction, in non-fiction and creative non-fiction. Some were plausible, most were speculative, and whole libraries of them were, frankly, preposterous. So in a way I’m the last person to be enthusiastic about this particular literary genre.

And yet, there are aspects I delight in. In amongst the many servings of clichéd tropes, there are gems that catch the eye. Three overlapping areas I’ve noticed concern the King himself, Merlin and the Grail, so I shall divide this discussion into these three sections. Also, along the spectrum shading from history to legend is another axis taking us from an imagined past to a future via a notional ‘present.’ To keep things a little focused I shall confine myself to the 20th century; needless to say this is neither a comprehensive survey nor an impersonal one.

First come novels about a historical Arthur. There has been no end of bad retellings of Dark Age Britain, full of anachronisms and false premises, but I have great respect for early exponents of this subgenre, such as Rosemary Sutcliff in her Sword at Sunset (1963) and Henry Treece in The Great Captains (1956). I also liked the latter’s The Green Man (1966), an interesting attempt to meld the barbaric lives of Arthur and the Danish hero Amleth (better known to us as Hamlet). Meanwhile, the legend of the sleeping king is a particularly fecund source for fantasy, for example Alan Garner’s The Weirdstone of Bringamen (1960), William Mayne’s Earthfasts (1966) and Jane Louise Curry’s The Sleepers (1969). Lest you think I’m stuck in the sixties I should mention a notable freestyle rex futurus in Mike W Barr and Brian Bolland’s graphic novel Camelot 3000 (1982-4) which transposed Arthur and his revived medieval warriors into an SF future.

Merlin frequently gets a wake-up call too. C S Lewis’ science fantasy novel That Hideous Strength (1945, revised 1955) has the redivivus wizard fighting evil forces, while Peter Dickinson’s The Changes Trilogy (1969-70) ascribes disturbances in modern Britain to Merlin himself. Álvaro Cunqueiro’s gentle 1955 novel, translated as Merlin and Company in 1996, sets Merlin in rural Galicia, in a part of Spain with historical links to insular Celtic lands. Like the king, Merlin often gets the speculative fiction treatment, though my memory of Andre Norton’s Merlin’s Mirror (1975) is that the fantasy and the SF didn’t gel too well.

When we come to the Grail treatments of the object become even more imaginative. Arthur Machen’s novella The Great Return (1915) put the relic in an authentically Welsh setting, contrasting with Chuck Dixon’s so-so graphic novel Batman: The Chalice (1999) where the cup is sent to Bruce Wayne’s Gotham City mansion because the playboy is descended from Sir Gawain. Religious associations remained in Charles Williams’ War in Heaven (1930), but by the sixties native paganism had asserted itself, as in Alan Garner’s Elidor (1965) and Susan Cooper’s Over Sea, Under Stone (also 1965).

I have to say though that my favourites among all this re-envisioning are what I call freestyle treatments. Where to start? I’ll begin with Antal Szerb’s genre-crossing The Pendragon Legend (1934) with its nods to horror, spies, mysteries and the supernatural. Children’s authors are brilliant at riffing with Arthurian elements: take John Masefield’s The Midnight Folk (1927) with its youngster Kay Harker encountering Arthurian characters (or does he?), Joan Aiken’s The Stolen Lake (1981) set in an alternate history South America, or Diana Wynne Jones’ Hexwood (1993) and The Merlin Conspiracy (2003), both of which pluck their motifs out of context to create new and original plotlines.

As a general rule I look askance at pretentious novels that include key words like Excalibur and Camelot in their titles; I’m even more sceptical of supposedly factual publications that include the words “the real” or “the truth about” in combination with “Arthur,” king or otherwise. Not only do these “histories” contradict each other, their arguments are usually badly presented; they even fail to invite my willing suspension of disbelief, that defining characteristic of a good piece of fiction. Quite frankly I’d class these all as Bad Fiction.

I’m guessing I’ve omitted your favourite authors and titles in this short survey: apologies to lovers of, for example, T H White, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Mary Stewart, Bernard Cornwell or Gillian Bradshaw, for example. But if Arthur is to have a future I feel it is one where his triumphs and tragedies aren’t just going to be re-hashed in old familiar forms; in a changing world we need to consider what relevance Arthurian themes have for our planet, our lives and our relationships. And that will inevitably take us out of our comfort zones.

Chris Lovegrove posts photos on My New Shy, micropoetry on Zenrinji and book reviews on Calmgrove. After a career in music education he now has time to lavish on more selfish pursuits like reading and reflecting on books, including those he didn’t take the time over in his youth. He now appreciates Zappa’s heartfelt cry, “So many books, so little time.”

New Reprint Review: The Forgotten Beasts of Eld

Patricia A. McKillip, The Forgotten Beasts of Eld (1974)

Though McKillip’s early novel has become a classic of fairy-tale-flavored fiction, a favorite genre of mine, I’ve somehow managed not to read it until now. I’m so glad I finally did, thanks to a new, beautifully designed paperback and e-book edition from Tachyon books. This is a lyrical, thoughtful exploration of love and power, pride and forgiveness and freedom, rich with evocative imagery and resonant language. I’ve already read it twice in a row, and I’m sure I’ll be returning to it again.

Daughter and heir of wizards, silver-haired Sybel lives on a mountaintop alone but for the magical beasts she’s captured with her powers. When a baby is brought to her to raise and love, then taken from her again as a boy, it draws her into the political machinations of the lands below. How she learns to find her own true strength is a tale that takes us deep into the secrets of the human heart, and out again into the dangerous, enchanting world.

I could say more, but I think it’s best to let McKillip speak for herself; a taste of her prose will quickly tell you whether this is a book for you.

“You are a strange child . . . so fearless and so powerful to hold such great, lordly beasts. I wonder you are not lonely sometimes.”

“Why should I be? I have many things to talk to. My father never spoke much—I learned silence from him, silence of the mind that is like clear, still water, in which nothing is hidden. That is the first thing he taught me, for if you cannot be so silent, you will not hear the answer when you call.”


“You can weave your life so long — only so long, and then a thing in the world out of your control will tug at one vital thread and leave you patternless and subdued.”


“What do you think love is- a thing to startle from the heart like a bird at every shout or blow? You can fly from me, high as you choose into your darkness, but you will see me always beneath you, no matter how far away, with my face turned to you. My heart is in your heart. I gave it to you with my name that night and you are its guardian, to treasure it, or let it whither and die. I do not understand you. I am angry with you. I am hurt and helpless, but nothing will fill the ache of the hollowness in me where your name would echo if I lost you.”

Though it has no external connection to Arthurian legend, there are thematic resonances in this tale of love lost and betrayed, of powerful, magical women, of the double-edged sword of passion and revenge. So I’m very excited that thanks to Tachyon, I’m able to offer a giveaway of this lovely book during Witch Week: Dreams of Arthur, taking place from October 31 to November 6 — plus another one of their new publications.

Which one? Come back on October 1 for more news about that, and the rest of the week.