Tuesday, 27 January 2009
In the past I have wondered...
...how one might leave the Hindu religion (i.e cease to be called a Hindu, counted as one in the census, etc) without actually converting into another. Is this the solution?
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Looking at the pretty pictures
In the last three days I have acquired new editions of books I already own purely for their illustrators. The first was a (bright pink) copy of H.G Wells' War of the Worlds illustrated by Edward Gorey. I did not know that this existed; I was thrilled to find that it did. It's on my shelf looking pulpy and garish and awesome, and I'm very pleased with it.
The second had more significance because it was something I'd been looking for for ages. Regular readers of this blog have probably noticed by now that I like Mervyn Peake. Rather a lot. At some point in the 1940s Peake did a series of illustrations for Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass. Some of these pop up in anthologies sometimes, and I've always admired them (I'm almost as much a fan of Peake's art as I am of his writing). Then yesterday there it was in Midland (the Aurobindo Market branch; the bit outside the shop where all the Penguin classics and grubby children's books are kept), slightly foxed but generally untouched and in good condition. Anyone could have picked it up. I'm lucky it was me.
The second had more significance because it was something I'd been looking for for ages. Regular readers of this blog have probably noticed by now that I like Mervyn Peake. Rather a lot. At some point in the 1940s Peake did a series of illustrations for Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass. Some of these pop up in anthologies sometimes, and I've always admired them (I'm almost as much a fan of Peake's art as I am of his writing). Then yesterday there it was in Midland (the Aurobindo Market branch; the bit outside the shop where all the Penguin classics and grubby children's books are kept), slightly foxed but generally untouched and in good condition. Anyone could have picked it up. I'm lucky it was me.
Monday, 19 January 2009
Copasetic results of internet searches
Removed to a more secure location, for various reasons. Feel free to email me if you want a copy of your own.
Saturday, 17 January 2009
It really IS about guilt.
In the past week (in a fit of post- paper-submission rashness) I have watched two movies based on books and found neither satisfactory.
The first was Twilight. There is little to say of it except that lines that were funny on paper are somehow more hilarious when said by a sparkly Hufflepuff. Kristen Stewart had a constant "WTF" expression (does she always, or was it merely bewilderment at finding herself being called "spidermonkey" by a glittering Cedric Diggory?). The movie was only redeemed by Ashley Greene's adorable hair and by not containing (of necessity) Meyer's dreadful prose.
The second, and far more interesting to me, was last year's remake of Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. I have loved that book since I first encountered it in a school library ten years ago. I'm also very fond of the 1981 BBC TV series starring Jeremy Irons as Charles Ryder; in part because it was so faithful (at something like 10 hours long it could be), and because it was so gentle, and nuanced, and full of pretty people.
The new adaptation is the normal length of a movie and so cannot afford such luxuries as nuance. Right before the film started the friend I watched it with wondered how one would cram it all into 2.5 hours. "This is a movie about sex and Catholic guilt"?
...and then it started, and about three lines into it Charles was claiming that all he felt was guilt. From then on the movie bludgeoned you with it.
There are some entertaining moments. Every passage featuring Charles' father (played, I think, by Patrick Malahide?) is a thing of beauty - though the focus on his chessboard made me think of an entertaining scenario where Mr. Ryder is the godlike, mastermind who organizes all of this for Charles' education. There's also a (terrible, really, but we giggled) bit where Sebastian's brother Bridey informs the audience that he likes "huntin', shootin'... and fishin'".
On the whole, though, it's awful. Matthew Goode as Charles is gorgeous, but not very interesting. Ben Whishaw is also attractive, but (unlike Anthony Andrews, who really was fascinating) at no point is it obvious that Charles would fall in love with him. He's also made rather more camp than in the book (while Anthony Blanche, bafflingly, is made less so). Julia (played by Hayley Atwell) is much better than either of these, but in the earlier parts of the movie she has none of the air of unattainability that she has in the book. Plus the rather cringe-worthy reunion between her and Charles (the audience is subjected to this scene twice) prejudices one against her.
With three characters who aren't particularly interesting, the only way the audience could possibly know that there was anything going on between them is for Charles and Sebastian to drunkenly kiss, for Charles and Julia to kiss, for Sebastian to witness said kiss and be sad over it, and for Lady Marchmain to warn Charles that Julia is "destined" to marry a Catholic.
Lady Marchmain. She worked well enough as a character (as you'd expect of any role Emma Thompson undertook) but she was too individual, and too forceful for me. The Lady Marchmain of the book is a rather menacing character because she remains a shadowy, background figure identified almost entirely with the House itself. Thompson's version is sympathetic, interesting, and actually too much of a real person.
On the whole....no. I think I'd rather reread the book.
The first was Twilight. There is little to say of it except that lines that were funny on paper are somehow more hilarious when said by a sparkly Hufflepuff. Kristen Stewart had a constant "WTF" expression (does she always, or was it merely bewilderment at finding herself being called "spidermonkey" by a glittering Cedric Diggory?). The movie was only redeemed by Ashley Greene's adorable hair and by not containing (of necessity) Meyer's dreadful prose.
The second, and far more interesting to me, was last year's remake of Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. I have loved that book since I first encountered it in a school library ten years ago. I'm also very fond of the 1981 BBC TV series starring Jeremy Irons as Charles Ryder; in part because it was so faithful (at something like 10 hours long it could be), and because it was so gentle, and nuanced, and full of pretty people.
The new adaptation is the normal length of a movie and so cannot afford such luxuries as nuance. Right before the film started the friend I watched it with wondered how one would cram it all into 2.5 hours. "This is a movie about sex and Catholic guilt"?
...and then it started, and about three lines into it Charles was claiming that all he felt was guilt. From then on the movie bludgeoned you with it.
There are some entertaining moments. Every passage featuring Charles' father (played, I think, by Patrick Malahide?) is a thing of beauty - though the focus on his chessboard made me think of an entertaining scenario where Mr. Ryder is the godlike, mastermind who organizes all of this for Charles' education. There's also a (terrible, really, but we giggled) bit where Sebastian's brother Bridey informs the audience that he likes "huntin', shootin'... and fishin'".
On the whole, though, it's awful. Matthew Goode as Charles is gorgeous, but not very interesting. Ben Whishaw is also attractive, but (unlike Anthony Andrews, who really was fascinating) at no point is it obvious that Charles would fall in love with him. He's also made rather more camp than in the book (while Anthony Blanche, bafflingly, is made less so). Julia (played by Hayley Atwell) is much better than either of these, but in the earlier parts of the movie she has none of the air of unattainability that she has in the book. Plus the rather cringe-worthy reunion between her and Charles (the audience is subjected to this scene twice) prejudices one against her.
With three characters who aren't particularly interesting, the only way the audience could possibly know that there was anything going on between them is for Charles and Sebastian to drunkenly kiss, for Charles and Julia to kiss, for Sebastian to witness said kiss and be sad over it, and for Lady Marchmain to warn Charles that Julia is "destined" to marry a Catholic.
Lady Marchmain. She worked well enough as a character (as you'd expect of any role Emma Thompson undertook) but she was too individual, and too forceful for me. The Lady Marchmain of the book is a rather menacing character because she remains a shadowy, background figure identified almost entirely with the House itself. Thompson's version is sympathetic, interesting, and actually too much of a real person.
On the whole....no. I think I'd rather reread the book.
Monday, 12 January 2009
It is 2009
...and I start the year with a picture of an inflatable giraffe in a hanging chair hammock thing.
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