Watched Slumdog Millionaire - an out-of-nowhere hit on Saturday night. It was.. qite intense- there was a moment (and I can't tell you which one without spoiling the story- suffice to say, it was fairly early on) - that I was terrified for the people sitting in front of me - because I very nearly puked.
It was a fantastic movie though - a light on some of India's darkest sides, but with such a deft touch, it tells the story without moralising. While it is basically a story of luck, its also about a person who remains, good, who retains hope, despite all the reasons for him not to. And in his victory we all win, a little. And in the end... it didn't really matter whether or not he won the show - you could see it on his face- he'd already won what was important.
Most recently, I got done with Rowling's latest offering - 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' . Its not a book I'd have considered reading, if it wasn't by Rowling- and it wasn't all that great either. I've heard it being compared to Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson, and all I can say is 'Oh, Please!' The side commentary by Albus Dumbledore is amusing, but it's hardly the profound wisdom we've come to expect from him...
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Other books I read lately
And what have I been reading lately? The usually junk- well, Orson Scott Card isn’t junk exactly, but he’s not exactly deep philosophy wither- but his book ‘Magic Street' was pretty good (actually, all his books are pretty good). On the one hand boy finds out he has special powers, massive villain to destroy, Fairy Queen to win (same old, same old) … on the other, some lovely supporting characters (and the hero kid's not bad either)
Then, there was “The Magicians and Mrs. Quent’ . It’s a weird cross of Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and fantasy. The cross from p&p to Jane Eyre is quite jarring, and there were a couple of things that honestly annoyed me- the first being the inability of women to do magic, and the magic of women being the basic equivalent of the dark arts. There were some interesting parts to it though – although (spoilers here) personally, I would have picked Mr. Darcy over Mr. Rochester- though the equivalents are not quite exact – in the case of this book, I wouldn’t have picked either of the ‘heroes’.
I’m now reading 'The Starter Wife' – yes, just like in the show. It’s satirical without being foolish or fluffy and it does deal with quite real stuff- I’m enjoying it very much- I’m just not sure I should be reading so much about marriages gone bad right now (not that I have any illusions to be dispelled).
I also finished another book by Diana Wynne Jones. I didn’t realize it at first, but it is a sequel (of sorts) to Howl’s Moving Castle, called ‘Castle in the Air’. I really liked the way it started off, the new characters were whimsical and quirky… they just didn’t gel with the original Howl cast. It was a bit annoying when they all met, and it would have been really annoying to anyone reading the book without knowing the back story.
Next on my list is ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ … I seem to do writers in phases… I had the Rushdie phase, the Heinlen phase and I had a Robin Cook phase (and Sheldon phase a Jeffrey Archer phase, a Mary Higgins Clarke phase) ... and now it’s the Gabriel Garcia Marquez phase. One thing I do need to mention is that Marquez’s books (Is that right? Should it be Garcia Marquez, as it was filed in the library), are translated – and you can tell (though it takes nothing away from the quality of the book) . There are phrases that are stilted sometimes, and then, there are ones that are so lyrical, it should be poetry. Maybe its because of the translation, maybe its just him, but these aren’t books you can just skim through. Every word demands your attention- The story is not in the events that happen, it is in the progress of emotions of the characters- and a single word can define or destroy the mood.
Then, there was “The Magicians and Mrs. Quent’ . It’s a weird cross of Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and fantasy. The cross from p&p to Jane Eyre is quite jarring, and there were a couple of things that honestly annoyed me- the first being the inability of women to do magic, and the magic of women being the basic equivalent of the dark arts. There were some interesting parts to it though – although (spoilers here) personally, I would have picked Mr. Darcy over Mr. Rochester- though the equivalents are not quite exact – in the case of this book, I wouldn’t have picked either of the ‘heroes’.
I’m now reading 'The Starter Wife' – yes, just like in the show. It’s satirical without being foolish or fluffy and it does deal with quite real stuff- I’m enjoying it very much- I’m just not sure I should be reading so much about marriages gone bad right now (not that I have any illusions to be dispelled).
I also finished another book by Diana Wynne Jones. I didn’t realize it at first, but it is a sequel (of sorts) to Howl’s Moving Castle, called ‘Castle in the Air’. I really liked the way it started off, the new characters were whimsical and quirky… they just didn’t gel with the original Howl cast. It was a bit annoying when they all met, and it would have been really annoying to anyone reading the book without knowing the back story.
Next on my list is ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ … I seem to do writers in phases… I had the Rushdie phase, the Heinlen phase and I had a Robin Cook phase (and Sheldon phase a Jeffrey Archer phase, a Mary Higgins Clarke phase) ... and now it’s the Gabriel Garcia Marquez phase. One thing I do need to mention is that Marquez’s books (Is that right? Should it be Garcia Marquez, as it was filed in the library), are translated – and you can tell (though it takes nothing away from the quality of the book) . There are phrases that are stilted sometimes, and then, there are ones that are so lyrical, it should be poetry. Maybe its because of the translation, maybe its just him, but these aren’t books you can just skim through. Every word demands your attention- The story is not in the events that happen, it is in the progress of emotions of the characters- and a single word can define or destroy the mood.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Christmas Shopping
Why, you may ask, do I celebrate Christmas at all, leave alone, get involved in the madness that is shopping this time of the year. The answer I suspect would lie in mob psychology, where I just go along with the herd.
It starts over a month before Christmas - during Thanskgiving - the very midnight of Thanksgiving actually; while all the good people of the United States are replete after their humongous dinner, the shopaholics (the vast majority, apparently), leave home at midnight, on a spree to 'boost the economy'.
I don't usually start that early- I wait at least until December- this has nothing to do with restraint, and everything to do with the fact that during Thanksgiving I'm usually at some megamart-less corner of the country- like Yosemite or the Grand Canyon, or Disney World. This year I was at home.
The truth is, I think people travel so much during the holiday, because its so expensive to stay at home. When you're not there you can't be tempted by the sales, by coupons in the mail, by the romist of 50! 60! 70! % of highly inflated prices, by the feeling of warmth and goodness at the idea of getting your shopping done early, and relaxing while everyone else rushes around hunting for appropriate gifts.
The truth is, it doesn't matter how early you start, you're still going to be shopping two days before Christmas. Hmm... you start... what about this shirt for X... and this bag for Y and this piece of jewellery for Z (and ooh! this dress for me!) ... but X would also love this ... and Y this and Z this.... and this and this and this.... until the budget (if there was one to begin with) is far exceeded.
And there are the accessories... wrapping paper! bows! bags! Christmas tree decorations!
And you know what? After Christmas after the last presents are exchanged, unwrapped, and a sigh of relief is heard... there are the end of seasons sales... and I've already got plans for those....
It starts over a month before Christmas - during Thanskgiving - the very midnight of Thanksgiving actually; while all the good people of the United States are replete after their humongous dinner, the shopaholics (the vast majority, apparently), leave home at midnight, on a spree to 'boost the economy'.
I don't usually start that early- I wait at least until December- this has nothing to do with restraint, and everything to do with the fact that during Thanksgiving I'm usually at some megamart-less corner of the country- like Yosemite or the Grand Canyon, or Disney World. This year I was at home.
The truth is, I think people travel so much during the holiday, because its so expensive to stay at home. When you're not there you can't be tempted by the sales, by coupons in the mail, by the romist of 50! 60! 70! % of highly inflated prices, by the feeling of warmth and goodness at the idea of getting your shopping done early, and relaxing while everyone else rushes around hunting for appropriate gifts.
The truth is, it doesn't matter how early you start, you're still going to be shopping two days before Christmas. Hmm... you start... what about this shirt for X... and this bag for Y and this piece of jewellery for Z (and ooh! this dress for me!) ... but X would also love this ... and Y this and Z this.... and this and this and this.... until the budget (if there was one to begin with) is far exceeded.
And there are the accessories... wrapping paper! bows! bags! Christmas tree decorations!
And you know what? After Christmas after the last presents are exchanged, unwrapped, and a sigh of relief is heard... there are the end of seasons sales... and I've already got plans for those....
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Love in the time of Cholera
Just got done reading ‘Love in the time of Cholera’. I can’t remember when the last time was, that I read a book so immediately relevant to my circumstances. No wonder I suppose, I sympathize so much with its heroine- if that’s what she is. There’s not so much of a hero or heroine – in the sense of people performing heroic actions – more of entirely human characters – occasionally – rising above their own natures to become – momentarily – better than they are.
Having said that, it is almost terrifying, how much I see of myself in Fermina Daza; how much her thoughts seem to parallel mine; how much her story could be my future. I feel myself being drawn to her decision - of choosing a man with no valid reason for preferring one over any other – acquiescing to a suit not undertaken in the name of love- only worldly goods, security, order, happiness, that might resemble love, but are not (to quote the authors own words). Like Fermina Daza, I am likely to choose, as I sense a deadline I set for myself approaching. And like her I may find myself in a gilded cage of domesticity, that if I grow not to love, may at least become used to- which might be the same thing in the end. The ability to persuade myself that what I am is the best of what I could be- to immediately throw any blame on to the other- to despise and pity at once – to be a little repulsed by a person who lives in the shadow of love, never living, save in the thought of another – to live a life wholly virtuously – without reproof in the eyes of the world- to take pleasure in the activity of everyday, for activity keeps thought at bay.
As for Florentino Ariza- I despise him – for all the sympathy with which the author writes of him – his rationalization of his actions – his unending love (obsession), his achieving of his goal far beyond his just deserts- like Fermina I see him as a shadow of a man, lost in the darkness of his love. It is not his philandering with a hundred women that disgusts me (and what does that say of my own morality?), but that he does all that in the name of one woman; the fact is even without the philandering I would be disgusted by his weakness (as I see it) his inability to get over the one love of his life. And yet who am I to judge him? In the end his persistence pays off, he gets his Fermina at the ripe age of 76, having waited a lifetime for her.
I do love the tenderness with which the author talks about old age. His descriptions of the physical ailments, the lessening of mental acuity, have nothing of pity or scorn; he treats it as entirely natural, even a happy stage as life goes on. I love the idea of people finding love even in old age, after all of life has gone by still they have love. I love the honesty of the author, his insightfulness into the hearts of men and women alike- having found so much of myself in Fermina Daza, I assume that his portrait of Florentino Ariza would read as accurately to a man.
And through it all cholera is never far from the mids or fates of the players, pushing each of them through paths that may have not opened to them otherwise.
Having said that, it is almost terrifying, how much I see of myself in Fermina Daza; how much her thoughts seem to parallel mine; how much her story could be my future. I feel myself being drawn to her decision - of choosing a man with no valid reason for preferring one over any other – acquiescing to a suit not undertaken in the name of love- only worldly goods, security, order, happiness, that might resemble love, but are not (to quote the authors own words). Like Fermina Daza, I am likely to choose, as I sense a deadline I set for myself approaching. And like her I may find myself in a gilded cage of domesticity, that if I grow not to love, may at least become used to- which might be the same thing in the end. The ability to persuade myself that what I am is the best of what I could be- to immediately throw any blame on to the other- to despise and pity at once – to be a little repulsed by a person who lives in the shadow of love, never living, save in the thought of another – to live a life wholly virtuously – without reproof in the eyes of the world- to take pleasure in the activity of everyday, for activity keeps thought at bay.
As for Florentino Ariza- I despise him – for all the sympathy with which the author writes of him – his rationalization of his actions – his unending love (obsession), his achieving of his goal far beyond his just deserts- like Fermina I see him as a shadow of a man, lost in the darkness of his love. It is not his philandering with a hundred women that disgusts me (and what does that say of my own morality?), but that he does all that in the name of one woman; the fact is even without the philandering I would be disgusted by his weakness (as I see it) his inability to get over the one love of his life. And yet who am I to judge him? In the end his persistence pays off, he gets his Fermina at the ripe age of 76, having waited a lifetime for her.
I do love the tenderness with which the author talks about old age. His descriptions of the physical ailments, the lessening of mental acuity, have nothing of pity or scorn; he treats it as entirely natural, even a happy stage as life goes on. I love the idea of people finding love even in old age, after all of life has gone by still they have love. I love the honesty of the author, his insightfulness into the hearts of men and women alike- having found so much of myself in Fermina Daza, I assume that his portrait of Florentino Ariza would read as accurately to a man.
And through it all cholera is never far from the mids or fates of the players, pushing each of them through paths that may have not opened to them otherwise.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Booker prize winner 2008...and weekend in Rhode Island
So, I’m quite deeply impressed with myself. For an entire month I have now gone without buying any new clothes for myself- in spite of Ann Taylor, Boscov’s and JCP throwing coupons at me every time I head to the mailbox. What have I bought? A couple of gifts, 1 book, a brief weekend in Rhode Island, and a ridiculous number of lunches and dinners (where I used to previously eat at home). *Sigh*, if it’s not one thing, it’s another.
The book I read recently was Aravind Adiga’s recent Booker Prize winner- “The White Tiger".It’s a brilliantly written boo, but it paints a painful picture of India. I’m happy I read it, but I don’t think I’ll be re-reading it again any time soon.
Other books I’ve read lately? Robin McKinley’s “The Hero and The Crown”and Gail Carson Levine’s “Fairest”, both so called kids book’s but with ideas that make them appealing to adults too.
I read Mary Stewart’s “The Wicked Day”– the last tale in her Merlin and Arthur chronicles, where she gives Mordred a decidedly kinder treatment that he’s received nearly anywhere else, but to no avail; it all ends in tragedy (as we already know).
Then there was Susanna Clarke’s “Jonathan Strange and Mr.Norrell”, which was written in the style of English novels from the 19th century. It’s a enormous book (the more the merrier, eh?), and her characters are drawn incredibly minutely, their flaws and virtues, that make you sympathize and despise them in turn. The plot is excellent too, and if you like fantasy at all, you’ll love this one. (I'm thrilled that there might be a sequel in the works -speaking of potential sequels... what happened to the one for "Good Omens"?
The book I read recently was Aravind Adiga’s recent Booker Prize winner- “The White Tiger".It’s a brilliantly written boo, but it paints a painful picture of India. I’m happy I read it, but I don’t think I’ll be re-reading it again any time soon.
Other books I’ve read lately? Robin McKinley’s “The Hero and The Crown”and Gail Carson Levine’s “Fairest”, both so called kids book’s but with ideas that make them appealing to adults too.
I read Mary Stewart’s “The Wicked Day”– the last tale in her Merlin and Arthur chronicles, where she gives Mordred a decidedly kinder treatment that he’s received nearly anywhere else, but to no avail; it all ends in tragedy (as we already know).
Then there was Susanna Clarke’s “Jonathan Strange and Mr.Norrell”, which was written in the style of English novels from the 19th century. It’s a enormous book (the more the merrier, eh?), and her characters are drawn incredibly minutely, their flaws and virtues, that make you sympathize and despise them in turn. The plot is excellent too, and if you like fantasy at all, you’ll love this one. (I'm thrilled that there might be a sequel in the works -speaking of potential sequels... what happened to the one for "Good Omens"?
Also (god help us all) the Twilight sequel. I went with my cousin to the midnight book release, to see kids all dressed up as vampires and werewolves (there was this one kid who was a particularly convincing werewolf – I stayed well away from him). The book was … (what little of it I read, anyway)… overrated does not begin to cover it. Parts of it read more like a horror story from makers of SAW, than any decent book should. Honestly, people scream to burn books like “The Golden Compass” and “Harry Potter” ; do the world a favor, and ban this book – are you seriously telling me it’s “age appropriate” for teenagers to read about baby monsters clawing their way out of theirs mother’s womb? Ugh!
Also, I love Norton Anti virus (yes, they should be paying me for random endorsements, but... ) my computer's been so well-behaved since I installed it!
And here are some pictures from Rhode Island
Friday, September 26, 2008
A basic tourguide to Reading, PA (or, the things I do when I'm not reading)
I've always lived in big cities before, and when I moved to a relatively small town, I wondered what I was going to do with myself.
But it is a fact that it’s not the place , it’s what you do there (and anyway, I was never a nightlife person- catch me going out after 8pm!)
And these are some of the things I do:
1.Shop. Shop,shop,shop till you drop. This used to be the outlet capital of the world (here’s the New York Times article to prove it.
The Vanity Fair outlets are the ultimate shopaholics paradise; I always find that things are cheaper there than in even other outlet stores with the same brand. And when you’re done with those, you can head to Limerik or Lancaster ( Rockvale and Tanger , all at less than a half ann hours drive for fore outlet shopping.
What else to do? Well, what more do you need but a decent internet connection and cable TV?
But it is a fact that it’s not the place , it’s what you do there (and anyway, I was never a nightlife person- catch me going out after 8pm!)
And these are some of the things I do:
1.Shop. Shop,shop,shop till you drop. This used to be the outlet capital of the world (here’s the New York Times article to prove it.
The Vanity Fair outlets are the ultimate shopaholics paradise; I always find that things are cheaper there than in even other outlet stores with the same brand. And when you’re done with those, you can head to Limerik or Lancaster ( Rockvale and Tanger , all at less than a half ann hours drive for fore outlet shopping.
They’ve recently opened Reading. IMAX theatre in Reading. Now with what hope they went and opened it in the very center of downtown I don’t know. I would certainly never go for a night show there… but for a Sunday afternoon… I might. (PS. For the night show I’d go to Fox east; yes it’s tiny, but it’s safe and hey! Its right next to Boscov’s!)
2.Speaking of Boscov’s – Reading’s the base for the store. This is where they have their warehouse- and my favorite store’s the one in East Reading. Its one of the smaller one’s but again, I don’t know why, every thing just seems cheaper here. (It’s my favorite department store- not as blah as JCP, not as threateningly trendy as Macy’s).
3.Moving on to not shopping – There’s the Goggleworks studio: http://www.goggleworks.org/
where every second Sunday they have artists showing off their work and pottery and glass blowing classes.
4.There are also theatres: Sovereign Performance center, Sovereign theatre , Reading Eagle theatre … they have Broadway shows, music, … especially through winter. And its so much cheaper than New York!
5.Love the library. Reading down town library is a block from my office and it is awesome .
6.Pagoda… don’t ask me… it’s THE landmark around here, and I’ve never actually been there – only viewed it from a distance… here . Lots of interesting stories about it though.
7.Fruit picking. Ok, so you can do this anywhere, where they grow any kind of fruit pretty much. And I went to Styer’s Orchard in Langhorne myself. But there is this highly recommended place Weaver's orchard near Reading.
What else to do? Well, what more do you need but a decent internet connection and cable TV?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Beadfest!
I'd been looking forward to this for a while(like, a month). The Philadelphia Beadfest at the Valley Forge convention center. And with great enthusiasm (abettede by my mother 6000 miles away), I took off into the bright and sunny morning, to spend my limited fortune there.
Like a kid in a candy store, my eyes darted here and there, strings of pearls, in white, and pink, and gold, and green and blue and black. Stones the size of and egg and beads no bigger that a dust mote, sparkling crystals, delicately shaped glass flowers, finely carved wood, painted shells, beads made of flowers, felt, butterfly wings; long loops of yarn and thread and wire in every colour of the rainbow. Stones like quartz and amethyst, garnet, aquamarine, coral, lapis, tiger's eye. Lampworked glass in a dizzying array of shapes and colors.
And of course I went completely crazy. In the tw hours that I was there I wandered through a million stalls, each more exciting than the last, my fingers flwed through strands of multicolored beads, my imagination took flight, and a million designs leapt into life in my mind's eye. But though the mind was willing, alas, the body was not, hunger eventually took over, and besides, my credit card was almost in its death throes.
So reluctantly I left the treasures behind me. Farewell, till next year.
Like a kid in a candy store, my eyes darted here and there, strings of pearls, in white, and pink, and gold, and green and blue and black. Stones the size of and egg and beads no bigger that a dust mote, sparkling crystals, delicately shaped glass flowers, finely carved wood, painted shells, beads made of flowers, felt, butterfly wings; long loops of yarn and thread and wire in every colour of the rainbow. Stones like quartz and amethyst, garnet, aquamarine, coral, lapis, tiger's eye. Lampworked glass in a dizzying array of shapes and colors.
And of course I went completely crazy. In the tw hours that I was there I wandered through a million stalls, each more exciting than the last, my fingers flwed through strands of multicolored beads, my imagination took flight, and a million designs leapt into life in my mind's eye. But though the mind was willing, alas, the body was not, hunger eventually took over, and besides, my credit card was almost in its death throes.
So reluctantly I left the treasures behind me. Farewell, till next year.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
How to keep busy on a loooooong flight OR more movie reviews than you could possibly read
The India trip was great... it goes without saying I think. Family,food,fun... heh I'm a poet now.
But the flight... ah, there's the rub; about a day in cramped seats, alone, yet surrounded by people, NO INTERNET! What's a girl to do? Salman Rushdie proved disappointing. 'THe Enchantress of Florence" was utterly disillusioning. All that lyrical, delicate wordplay that I loved in "Midnight's Children" or even in "The Moor's Last Sigh" (was never a big fan of "The Satanic Verses" personally), gone, gone, replaced by strict prose and a plot that made no sense whatsoever!
So it was to the idiot box for me. I love Lufthansa for having seatback monitors. No better timepass. I started with "Charlie Wilson's War" figuring that if I was going to watch anything halfway serious, it had better be at the beginning, when I still had the patience for it. I needn't have worried. It was absolutely gripping! Julia Roberts was brilliant- isn't she always?(though I wasn't too into her blonde hairstyle). And Tom Hanks was excellent. Bravo, bravo!
Then I watched "The Golden Compass". I loved the books (by Phillip Pullman), and I thought the 'controversy' about the Church etc. was way overblown. And the thing was, the movie was actually good! They stuck to the plot, the actors were decent... the special effects were not bad... why is it that when something like Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings ot Narnia is made into a move, the plot is turned inside out and everybody rushes to see it, but when they actually stick to the plot, its a great big flop. Anyway, I don't expect to see the next two in the series being made into movies.
Then it was the Spiderwick chronicles... not bad... waay too many plot holes... basic kid's stuff though.
And voila, three movies and a book to get me from Phildelphia to Chennai through Frankfurt.
I watched 'Indiana Jones' in Chennai, at Sathyam (which seems to be the only theatre that anyone goes to anymore... Oh wait, there's the new one at City Center... Movie wasn't bad... loved the food though. I really miss the interval when I'm watching movies in the US. There's nothing like taking a break in the middle, grabbing a puff and a coke or iced cofee and popcorn, there's the sheer variety of things to eat! Americans are so business like even about watching a movie... one shot and its all done.
Then there was the flight back. The advantage of flying in the middle of the night is that you're really, really sleepy and even wailing infants can't put you off sleeping. I did manage "The Other Boelyn Girl" though. I'm just glad I never bothered with the book.
The last movie I say- "Definitely, Maybe"... you know what... I'd have actually liked to watch that one in the theatre! It actually had plot! And an ending that wasn't completly saccharine, some halfway decent acting.... not bad at all.
Finally, watched "The Dark Knight" last Saturday. That movie is intense! I loved the way it explores the darkness in people, pushes them beyond civilization, makes heroes of villains and villains of heroes. Heath Ledger was brilliant... but so was Aaron Ekhart and Christian Bale and Morgan Feeman and Micheal Caine... and I liked Maggie Gyllenhall too(better than Katie Holmes actually).
Last of all.. "Kismat Konnection". Shocker! The movie has a plot (sort of). Two and a half hours? Waaay too much. Should have been an hour shorter- at least. Loved- Vidya Balan's clothes.
But the flight... ah, there's the rub; about a day in cramped seats, alone, yet surrounded by people, NO INTERNET! What's a girl to do? Salman Rushdie proved disappointing. 'THe Enchantress of Florence" was utterly disillusioning. All that lyrical, delicate wordplay that I loved in "Midnight's Children" or even in "The Moor's Last Sigh" (was never a big fan of "The Satanic Verses" personally), gone, gone, replaced by strict prose and a plot that made no sense whatsoever!
So it was to the idiot box for me. I love Lufthansa for having seatback monitors. No better timepass. I started with "Charlie Wilson's War" figuring that if I was going to watch anything halfway serious, it had better be at the beginning, when I still had the patience for it. I needn't have worried. It was absolutely gripping! Julia Roberts was brilliant- isn't she always?(though I wasn't too into her blonde hairstyle). And Tom Hanks was excellent. Bravo, bravo!
Then I watched "The Golden Compass". I loved the books (by Phillip Pullman), and I thought the 'controversy' about the Church etc. was way overblown. And the thing was, the movie was actually good! They stuck to the plot, the actors were decent... the special effects were not bad... why is it that when something like Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings ot Narnia is made into a move, the plot is turned inside out and everybody rushes to see it, but when they actually stick to the plot, its a great big flop. Anyway, I don't expect to see the next two in the series being made into movies.
Then it was the Spiderwick chronicles... not bad... waay too many plot holes... basic kid's stuff though.
And voila, three movies and a book to get me from Phildelphia to Chennai through Frankfurt.
I watched 'Indiana Jones' in Chennai, at Sathyam (which seems to be the only theatre that anyone goes to anymore... Oh wait, there's the new one at City Center... Movie wasn't bad... loved the food though. I really miss the interval when I'm watching movies in the US. There's nothing like taking a break in the middle, grabbing a puff and a coke or iced cofee and popcorn, there's the sheer variety of things to eat! Americans are so business like even about watching a movie... one shot and its all done.
Then there was the flight back. The advantage of flying in the middle of the night is that you're really, really sleepy and even wailing infants can't put you off sleeping. I did manage "The Other Boelyn Girl" though. I'm just glad I never bothered with the book.
The last movie I say- "Definitely, Maybe"... you know what... I'd have actually liked to watch that one in the theatre! It actually had plot! And an ending that wasn't completly saccharine, some halfway decent acting.... not bad at all.
Finally, watched "The Dark Knight" last Saturday. That movie is intense! I loved the way it explores the darkness in people, pushes them beyond civilization, makes heroes of villains and villains of heroes. Heath Ledger was brilliant... but so was Aaron Ekhart and Christian Bale and Morgan Feeman and Micheal Caine... and I liked Maggie Gyllenhall too(better than Katie Holmes actually).
Last of all.. "Kismat Konnection". Shocker! The movie has a plot (sort of). Two and a half hours? Waaay too much. Should have been an hour shorter- at least. Loved- Vidya Balan's clothes.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
The great pre-India pilgrimage
This time next week, I will be in India, likely enjoying thai chaadam with (dare I hoe) paruppu thogayal and veggies on the side. And I expect to be doing a circuit of temples while I’m there. The small middle-of-the-road Vinayakar kovil in Gandhinagar; the Padmanabha Swami temple almost next door to it ;and others that my mother will no doubt take me to.
But it looks like my pilgrimage has started off early. In the last couple of weeks I have been to two temples and one kutcheri, practically filling my cultural quota for several months. The Delaware Mahalakshmi temple and the Pittsburgh Sri Venkateswara temple. And the concert was by TM Krishna, in nearby Blue Bell, and I must say, it was brilliant. He has an amazing voice, and the range of notes that he hits, apparently effortlessly, is stunning. It was a long concert – 3 and a half hours, but I (shocking myself) managed to sit through the whole thing (more credit to the singer, I think, than any musical inclination on my part).
Of course, during the long journeys to these temples(5 hours to Pittbutgh!) I occupied myself with some of the second hand books I had acquired at various garage and library sales. I got done with the mysterious and slightly supernatural ‘Mistress of Spices’ by Chitra Divakaruni, and the very suspenseful and extremely supernatural (not to mention ghoulish- a good buildup to the X-Files movie coming out next month) ‘This Historian’ by Elisabeth Kostova.
‘The Mistress of Spices’ was a little sad, and little sweet, a little Rushdie-esque I thought, maybe a lighter version of Rushdie.
‘The Historian’ on the other hand was a decidedly heavier version of Dracula, with much of the myth of Dracula mixed with a lot of historical references. The settings in Eastern Europe come alive in each word, the spooky beauty, the sense of being a step behind (or is it in front of?) the monster through a beautiful maze builds in a crescendo.
Some time ago, I also found myself in unhappy circumstances (into the details of which I will not go), sitting and drowning my sorrows in Barnes and Noble, over Diana Wynn Jones’s ‘Howl’s Moving Castle’. The book (not about a dog, as I had for some reason expected), a lightly written fantasy, with a toehold (but an important one, to the plot) in the real world, successfully lifted my out of the doldrums, so that I was later able to appreciate Ann Taylor Loft’s collection that had just come out.
Anyway, I now have to pick a book to carry on the plane. I wish now, that I had saved ‘The Historian’ for that. At 650 pages it would have lasted me the whole way layovers and all. Now I have to depend on the In-flight entertainment, of which I have no expectation (what are the chances they’ll be playing ‘Sex and the City’?)
But it looks like my pilgrimage has started off early. In the last couple of weeks I have been to two temples and one kutcheri, practically filling my cultural quota for several months. The Delaware Mahalakshmi temple and the Pittsburgh Sri Venkateswara temple. And the concert was by TM Krishna, in nearby Blue Bell, and I must say, it was brilliant. He has an amazing voice, and the range of notes that he hits, apparently effortlessly, is stunning. It was a long concert – 3 and a half hours, but I (shocking myself) managed to sit through the whole thing (more credit to the singer, I think, than any musical inclination on my part).
Of course, during the long journeys to these temples(5 hours to Pittbutgh!) I occupied myself with some of the second hand books I had acquired at various garage and library sales. I got done with the mysterious and slightly supernatural ‘Mistress of Spices’ by Chitra Divakaruni, and the very suspenseful and extremely supernatural (not to mention ghoulish- a good buildup to the X-Files movie coming out next month) ‘This Historian’ by Elisabeth Kostova.
‘The Mistress of Spices’ was a little sad, and little sweet, a little Rushdie-esque I thought, maybe a lighter version of Rushdie.
‘The Historian’ on the other hand was a decidedly heavier version of Dracula, with much of the myth of Dracula mixed with a lot of historical references. The settings in Eastern Europe come alive in each word, the spooky beauty, the sense of being a step behind (or is it in front of?) the monster through a beautiful maze builds in a crescendo.
Some time ago, I also found myself in unhappy circumstances (into the details of which I will not go), sitting and drowning my sorrows in Barnes and Noble, over Diana Wynn Jones’s ‘Howl’s Moving Castle’. The book (not about a dog, as I had for some reason expected), a lightly written fantasy, with a toehold (but an important one, to the plot) in the real world, successfully lifted my out of the doldrums, so that I was later able to appreciate Ann Taylor Loft’s collection that had just come out.
Anyway, I now have to pick a book to carry on the plane. I wish now, that I had saved ‘The Historian’ for that. At 650 pages it would have lasted me the whole way layovers and all. Now I have to depend on the In-flight entertainment, of which I have no expectation (what are the chances they’ll be playing ‘Sex and the City’?)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Springtime and Cherry blossoms
The flowers I was growing - Hyacynths, daffodils and mums...
A weeping cherry blossom tree at the height of bloom in New Hope
Stark white firestar flowers (is that what they're called? I forget)
- in (of all places) my office parking lot.
- in (of all places) my office parking lot.
Magnolias -a brilliant flash of pink - a dash of summer fun against the busy working street
Weeping cherry's in Philadelphia's Horticultural Park
Pansies merry and bright
And row upon row upon row of cherry trees pale pink and white -
a last sigh before they fade for another year.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
The Romance novel and me
Admittedly I'm no conoisseur of the romance novel, in fact it is a genre I usually desperately avoid. But simply by virtue of being female, and the target audience for these books, I think I'm perfectly qualified to comment on them.
I'm not referring here, to classics like Jane Austen and Gone With the Wind, or even fairly middle-brow chick-lit like Georgette Heyer. I'm talking about Mills and Boon (that staple distraction of college classes) and Silhouette and Barbara Cartland and Danieele Steel(though these may actually have plot) and so on.
There's a fairly typical progression of so called storyline on these novels, most of which can be deduced from the first chapter or so. Woman( beautiful, virtuous, lonely) meets man (tall handsome, rich). They're thrown together, fall in love, have a couple of misunderstandings, make up, live happily ever after. End of story.
That's every love story really, and the utter obviousness aside, it doesn't really bother me. Its always good for a bedtime read when you just want to empty your head.
What does bother me is this : See, I've read the Mills and Boons of my mother's time, I 'rescued' them when they were gathering dust in the store room, and read them secretly when I was supposed to be doing more productive things.
And I've read the romance novels of today. Nothing has changed. In twenty years, nothing has changed (except for the somewhat more explicit scenes- but we'll come to that in a bit).
I mean, it really bothers me that twenty years on, and inspite of women's lib, feminism etc. these books still feature the knight in armour on a white horse racing to rescue the damsel in distress. It maybe a snowstorm, a runaway horse, an unwanted admirer, a cruel family... it never seems to happen the other way round. Oh wait... she rescues him from his loneliness, from himself, from the job that's taken too much out of him... sigh, how romantic.
So much for our much vanted independence. Apparently the vast majority of women only want a man to fulfill the fairytale we have imagined our lives to be (with ourselves as Cinderella as likely as not).
Its really odd, when you compare it with Young Adult fantasy novels, stuff which is supposed to be real escapist literature. Somehow in books actually based on fairytales, Shannon Hales' 'The Goose Girl'and 'The Princess Academy', Robin McKinley's ' Spindle's End' are all based off fairy tales, and they have a good component of romance(though admittedly its not all of it, and they have more plot to work with), but their women have character and they manage to rescue themselves usually. And its not like you need a major in English Literature to read these books either; they're also written for the casual reader. I don't understand why, when providing teens with good role models, it's alright to tell adult women that they can remain perfectly helpless, because there's a handsome prince for every beautiful woman (if she's got model looks and he's a millionaire- don't poor men and fat women have a right to romance?)
Its not that all romance novels are particularly bad. I'm decidedly partial to humour and think that it excuses a great many flaws, for example Sophie Kisella's 'Shopaholic' series. (Also Goergette Heyer- although her heroes tend not be be handsome and brooding- and her heroines not always beautifu, which are always pluses in my book- speaking of which, what've people got against happy men?).
The other thing that bother's me a lot is -ah, how do I put this delicately- umm, the bodice ripper part of it I guess... the fact that this woman has been saying "no, no, no" and he goes on ,(At that's ok? Excuse me?), and then its all ok because she's actually in love woth him, blah,blah, blah( hallo? some respect for the woman's opinions here?) what sort of an example is being set over here, anyway?
And lets not even get into the ummm... blush-inducing R-rated scenes ok? I mean, I infinitely prefer Barbara Cartalnd (though they may all be Princesses and Earls and Dukes and Knights ) but to (sort of) quote the Lady herself "The ladies are Ladies and the men are gentlemen"
I'm not referring here, to classics like Jane Austen and Gone With the Wind, or even fairly middle-brow chick-lit like Georgette Heyer. I'm talking about Mills and Boon (that staple distraction of college classes) and Silhouette and Barbara Cartland and Danieele Steel(though these may actually have plot) and so on.
There's a fairly typical progression of so called storyline on these novels, most of which can be deduced from the first chapter or so. Woman( beautiful, virtuous, lonely) meets man (tall handsome, rich). They're thrown together, fall in love, have a couple of misunderstandings, make up, live happily ever after. End of story.
That's every love story really, and the utter obviousness aside, it doesn't really bother me. Its always good for a bedtime read when you just want to empty your head.
What does bother me is this : See, I've read the Mills and Boons of my mother's time, I 'rescued' them when they were gathering dust in the store room, and read them secretly when I was supposed to be doing more productive things.
And I've read the romance novels of today. Nothing has changed. In twenty years, nothing has changed (except for the somewhat more explicit scenes- but we'll come to that in a bit).
I mean, it really bothers me that twenty years on, and inspite of women's lib, feminism etc. these books still feature the knight in armour on a white horse racing to rescue the damsel in distress. It maybe a snowstorm, a runaway horse, an unwanted admirer, a cruel family... it never seems to happen the other way round. Oh wait... she rescues him from his loneliness, from himself, from the job that's taken too much out of him... sigh, how romantic.
So much for our much vanted independence. Apparently the vast majority of women only want a man to fulfill the fairytale we have imagined our lives to be (with ourselves as Cinderella as likely as not).
Its really odd, when you compare it with Young Adult fantasy novels, stuff which is supposed to be real escapist literature. Somehow in books actually based on fairytales, Shannon Hales' 'The Goose Girl'and 'The Princess Academy', Robin McKinley's ' Spindle's End' are all based off fairy tales, and they have a good component of romance(though admittedly its not all of it, and they have more plot to work with), but their women have character and they manage to rescue themselves usually. And its not like you need a major in English Literature to read these books either; they're also written for the casual reader. I don't understand why, when providing teens with good role models, it's alright to tell adult women that they can remain perfectly helpless, because there's a handsome prince for every beautiful woman (if she's got model looks and he's a millionaire- don't poor men and fat women have a right to romance?)
Its not that all romance novels are particularly bad. I'm decidedly partial to humour and think that it excuses a great many flaws, for example Sophie Kisella's 'Shopaholic' series. (Also Goergette Heyer- although her heroes tend not be be handsome and brooding- and her heroines not always beautifu, which are always pluses in my book- speaking of which, what've people got against happy men?).
The other thing that bother's me a lot is -ah, how do I put this delicately- umm, the bodice ripper part of it I guess... the fact that this woman has been saying "no, no, no" and he goes on ,(At that's ok? Excuse me?), and then its all ok because she's actually in love woth him, blah,blah, blah( hallo? some respect for the woman's opinions here?) what sort of an example is being set over here, anyway?
And lets not even get into the ummm... blush-inducing R-rated scenes ok? I mean, I infinitely prefer Barbara Cartalnd (though they may all be Princesses and Earls and Dukes and Knights ) but to (sort of) quote the Lady herself "The ladies are Ladies and the men are gentlemen"
Saturday, March 29, 2008
pics from New York and Washington
Views from a vacation (so long agao... oh so long ago!) Pictures posted in no particular order... from the top left...Capitol Hill Inside and Out.... In the Botanical Gardens at Washington... miniature Smithsonian and Christmas Tree... Winged creatures from ancient times, mythological, real and manmade (angels,pterodactyls and spacecraft) ... monuments to mankind and all that we are (the Washington Monument and the Jekyll and Hyde club) and of course a tribute to what kept us going
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Lunar Eclipse
Last week’s little excitement was the Lunar Eclipse on the 21st. It was raining all day, and the rain stopped, though the clouds still hung heavy, and I doubted that anything would be visible. Happily, the clouds cleared before 10 PM and when I stepped out at 10:15 the sky was perfectly clear. The moon was about halfway into shadow when I saw it, its innocent white giving way to an ominous orange-red shade. It was the sort of moon, I thought, with a shiver, that brings out werewolves. My imagination overworking, I gave a quick nod to Saturn, hanging below the moon and slipped back inside, and into my cozy bed, where I slept untroubled by loony monsters.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Jodhaa-Akbar
I was pleasantly surprised my the movie JodhaaAkbar last night, as I had gone without high expectations. Though its quality no where near the inspirational Lagaan and Swades that director Ashuthosh Gowarikar has made before, but it is a fantastic spectacle. The sets are opulent eye-candy (so are the two leads), the costumes are gorgeous (did I mention the leads?).
The story itself is more historical fiction than history (as virtually admitted in the narration), but as it is admitted, the protests about its accuracy are quite unnecessary. It never claims to be historically accurate. (So there!).
I was highly impressed by Hrithik Roshan's Akbar. He seems to be channeling the character, not simply acting him out. I cannot imagine anyone else in that role now(love the little mushtache). When he speaks, he sounds aunthentic- not simply reading a dialogue (unlike almost everyone else). Aishwarya (thinkfully) has little to do but look lovely (which he does) and occasionally show eyes brimming over with tears (which she does very well, indeed).
The movie is far from flawless. Its far too long, for one. The voice over naration by Amitabh could have been cut(or replaced with scenes with proper dialogue), along with several other scenes in the couple of hours. The movie as a whole could have used a whole lot of editing to make it at least an hour shorter. I'm afraid, that the length alone may keep it from being a hit.
Rehman's music is disappointing, the songs and the background music alike. Most of the actors are wooden and have obviously just memorised their dialogues and are reciting it off like bad poetry. The initial battle sequence was squirm-worthy. I did like the other fight scenes though, especially the last one.
So, worth a watch for sure(an in the theatre- DVD wouldn't do the sets justice), but I wouldn't do it more than once.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
A picture is worth a thousand words that I could do without!
For the last several weeks, my weekend trips to my aunt's house have included one important function- taking pictures. By that I don't mean the making memories kind, or landscape or portrait photography, amateur or professional. This is a category all of its own- its Marriage Market photography. It started with a Maami who was dismayed by the meagre number of pictures my Mom offered her of me. "Other girls send portfolios" , she protested. "Other girls must be models, not geeky software engineers", I snorted. I was overruled by my alarmed mother though, and so every weekend I come bearing a couple of my Salwar Kameezes and pose around the solarium, while my aunt directs me and takes the snaps, and my cousin critiques. Sometimes, if its not enough, I try out their dresses and do my hair several different ways: pull it back, leave it loose, a little in front. And once its all done I send them on their way to my Mom in India.
She promptly and diligently goes through them and comes back with several more suggestions for the next week. "Try a different duppatta... comb your hair after every shot, don't leave it loose... don't tie it too tight.... wear heel... don't wear heels...no shoes...no bare feet, wear sandals with open toes... not that dress, its too tight... not that one either, its too floppy.... stand up straight... don't stand too straight, be natural... sit... no sitting shots... wear powder... no make up... jewellery... close ups of you face, full length shots...
Ok... who cares precisely to look at so many pictures?!! Unfortunately, alas, there are enough people who do. And even worse(for me) there are girls who happily (it seems- my smiles are simply fake, and not all the cajoling in the world can help with that) sit through an entire photoshoot, for all the world like they were at America's Top Model or something. Today it is to be garden shots(never mind that it s perfectly dreary winter's day), in carefully arranged 'natural' poses.
So if you ever come across pictures of me with a forced smile, strangely stiff, and teetering on high heels, smelling the non-existent roses, all in different clothes, for all the world like a heroine from a Tamil movie, changing costumes through a song sequence, you know that story behind it.
She promptly and diligently goes through them and comes back with several more suggestions for the next week. "Try a different duppatta... comb your hair after every shot, don't leave it loose... don't tie it too tight.... wear heel... don't wear heels...no shoes...no bare feet, wear sandals with open toes... not that dress, its too tight... not that one either, its too floppy.... stand up straight... don't stand too straight, be natural... sit... no sitting shots... wear powder... no make up... jewellery... close ups of you face, full length shots...
Ok... who cares precisely to look at so many pictures?!! Unfortunately, alas, there are enough people who do. And even worse(for me) there are girls who happily (it seems- my smiles are simply fake, and not all the cajoling in the world can help with that) sit through an entire photoshoot, for all the world like they were at America's Top Model or something. Today it is to be garden shots(never mind that it s perfectly dreary winter's day), in carefully arranged 'natural' poses.
So if you ever come across pictures of me with a forced smile, strangely stiff, and teetering on high heels, smelling the non-existent roses, all in different clothes, for all the world like a heroine from a Tamil movie, changing costumes through a song sequence, you know that story behind it.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
There was something in the air...
Over the weekend before New Years, along with Ash and... Ash (heh, bad joke I know) I went to see Mamma Mia. Caought a train from the Princeton Junction first thing Saturday morning to New York where the streets were shockingly empty (at 9:30 on a Saturday... but New York ok!- less than bumper to bumper traffic, and half a dozen people squeezing into the same square foot of pavement is unbelievable), and we raced to the Ticketmaster booth (by the Bank of America on Times Square - don't ask which one- like our tour guide told us, the previous day, you can't use banks or Starbucks or pharmacies as landmarks- there's one round every corner- but remember the BOA)
There was already a queue there, snaking around, but thank god it was moving fast, also that god there was a starbucks near by to eat while we waited.
Got pretty good seats by the way, Balcony first row thank you very much.
As for the show itself .... there are no words! It was absolutely incredible! The music! The dances! The comedy!
I was amazed at how much they accomplished with what seemed to me to be minimal props(compared to the Lion King at least... which is the only other Broadway show I've seen- also gorgeous by the way... I mean Disney, Elton John, Alan Menken... I mean- The Lion King! enough said)
I loved the way they wove the plot around the music, and what music! If I hadn't been on Broadway(and hence on my best behaviour), I'd probably have been jumping and dancing around like I was back in college!
I loved every character, each so masterfully detailed with just a few lines of dialogue. I'm not going to give away plot details here, because YOU SHOULD GO AND SEE IT FOR YOURSELF!, but, just to let you know, Judy McLane and Gina Ferrall are incredibly funny. Carolee Carmello has an amazing voice, just made for some of those dramatic songs.
A month later, I'm still on a high everytime I think of the show, and I'm already up for my next one- Anyone game for Phatom of the Opera?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
On Atonement
I really, really liked the book. And now I'm going to tell you why. In detail. So if you don't want to be spoilt, don't read any further.
First of all, I don't think this book is really about plot. Oh, the plot's there, but it's almost incidental, a cloud swirling around that one pivotal moment. And I don't think that the pivotal moment was the moment of Briony's lie, it was before that- the scene with Cecilia and Robbie at the fountain, Briony watching from above. There's this meta moment in the book, where Briony describes what the book itself is doing- taking a moment in three different points of view, each person's (mis) interpretation and the consequences that follow.
I love that fact that she cannot atone, not really, not completely. That even legally, her hands are tied. And there is no forgiveness from Cecilia or Robbie. Why should they forgive after all. Who would, who could? Will her apologies bring back the years that they lost? People assume that an apology given is an apology accepted. Those who throw the aplogy back in the face are bitter, ungracious. But what use is an apology? What difference does it make to the person who has been wronged? Whether by malice or ignorance, does it change anything?
There is Robbie desperately seeking a reason why, rationalizing it with an incident Briony neither remembers nor cares about anymore. And there is Briony. However reprehensible her actions, you cannot hate her. She was thirteen (though thirteen year old these days would probably not make the mistake- makes you almost thankful for the knowledge available), she had a vivid imagination, she so desperately wanted to be right . To do her justice though, when she did come to realize the truth, she faced up to the fact that she was wrong. What ever she was, she was not lacking in courage.
And there's Lola. She is hate-able, but God, I feel desperately sorry for her. She knew, she knew all along, and yet she went along with it. Did she already have plans for the future, blackmail maybe? Did she feel vindicated in the end, at her marrage, relieved at being made an honest woman of? Did she suffer from some version of the Stockholm syndrome, the only way her mind could cope with the tragedy? She was certainly self-centered enough that after the wedding, she cared little about the man who had shouldered the blame, but that no shadow fell on her own name, even if the criminal got away with it(or maybe I mean especially). One thing the book, the wedding scene in particular, does do, is strike a blow at all those caveman style romance novels. I do think you know the ones I mean.
It wasn't the subject matter, though that was sometimes harsh to read, but one particular word that made me think that the book deserved the R rating (well, the movie actually- I don't thin the book is rated). It was just a little jarring, to see that word in such a book. Possibly, it ws necessary, it gave that push to both Briony and Cecilia. Sometimes I am a little old fashioned.
I did love Briony's growth as an author, from fairy tales, to the recognition that no action can be judged independent of its consequences, as she becomes a more honest writer.
First of all, I don't think this book is really about plot. Oh, the plot's there, but it's almost incidental, a cloud swirling around that one pivotal moment. And I don't think that the pivotal moment was the moment of Briony's lie, it was before that- the scene with Cecilia and Robbie at the fountain, Briony watching from above. There's this meta moment in the book, where Briony describes what the book itself is doing- taking a moment in three different points of view, each person's (mis) interpretation and the consequences that follow.
I love that fact that she cannot atone, not really, not completely. That even legally, her hands are tied. And there is no forgiveness from Cecilia or Robbie. Why should they forgive after all. Who would, who could? Will her apologies bring back the years that they lost? People assume that an apology given is an apology accepted. Those who throw the aplogy back in the face are bitter, ungracious. But what use is an apology? What difference does it make to the person who has been wronged? Whether by malice or ignorance, does it change anything?
There is Robbie desperately seeking a reason why, rationalizing it with an incident Briony neither remembers nor cares about anymore. And there is Briony. However reprehensible her actions, you cannot hate her. She was thirteen (though thirteen year old these days would probably not make the mistake- makes you almost thankful for the knowledge available), she had a vivid imagination, she so desperately wanted to be right . To do her justice though, when she did come to realize the truth, she faced up to the fact that she was wrong. What ever she was, she was not lacking in courage.
And there's Lola. She is hate-able, but God, I feel desperately sorry for her. She knew, she knew all along, and yet she went along with it. Did she already have plans for the future, blackmail maybe? Did she feel vindicated in the end, at her marrage, relieved at being made an honest woman of? Did she suffer from some version of the Stockholm syndrome, the only way her mind could cope with the tragedy? She was certainly self-centered enough that after the wedding, she cared little about the man who had shouldered the blame, but that no shadow fell on her own name, even if the criminal got away with it(or maybe I mean especially). One thing the book, the wedding scene in particular, does do, is strike a blow at all those caveman style romance novels. I do think you know the ones I mean.
It wasn't the subject matter, though that was sometimes harsh to read, but one particular word that made me think that the book deserved the R rating (well, the movie actually- I don't thin the book is rated). It was just a little jarring, to see that word in such a book. Possibly, it ws necessary, it gave that push to both Briony and Cecilia. Sometimes I am a little old fashioned.
I did love Briony's growth as an author, from fairy tales, to the recognition that no action can be judged independent of its consequences, as she becomes a more honest writer.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
What I did when I was travelling
It has been a long time since I last wrote, and many exciting things have happened since then. I’ve been to Disney World and Cape Canaveral, and New York and Washington, and will shortly post pictures of my trips.
Right now, I going into the books I’ve been reading lately. Schindler’s List first, which I read on the flight to Florida. Brilliant and intense, the story it told was just unbelievable. Both that people could sink to such depravity, in the name of doing good, and that people should have such courage to fight such a thing. Then there has been a series of lighter reads; two of Phillip Pullman’s Sally Lockhart series: ‘The Ruby in The Smoke’ and ‘The Shadow in the North’. Not fantasies as I had initially expected. More like Wilkie Collins’ ‘Moonstone’ or even a Sherlock Holmes. Both were very twisty and I love Lockhart being an independent-minded female financial consultant (talk about a boring job- just the sort that needs to be livened up by pirates and smugglers) in Victorian England. There’s so much more I liked about those books, but I can’t say more without giving the plot away. Only, I laughed at the person who actually solves the mystery in the first book. And I love Sally and Fred’s relationship in the second.
Then there are the rest of Baroness Emmuska Orczy’s Scarlet Pimpernel series, all available online at http://www.blakeneymanor.com/ . After a point they do get repetitive, you’d think Chauvelin would stop being so easily tricked. It starts feeling like those roadrunner cartoons. Still, good for timepass.
Also online, at http://www.gutenberg.org/wiki/Main_Page is ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’ and its sequel ‘Rupert of Hentzau’ both by Anthony Hope. The first is a fun adventure story, the second is substantially darker.
I’ve also been reading several of the Newberry award winning books, courtesy of my cousin. I’m a little surprised that some of these books are recommended to children, they’re all pretty deep and dark. I’ve read ‘The House of the Scorpions’ by Nancy farmer, and ‘The Goose Girl’ by Shannon Hale (she didn’t win the medal- in was a Newberry Honor for Princess Academy - not for this one). ‘The House of the Scorpions’ was excellent, if somewhat creepy.
‘The Goose Girl’ was good, but the there were several plothole, and the tone of the book went just a little preachy in the end. Much better was Louis Sachar’s ‘Holes’ which was also made into a very good movie. It’s a short book, and the plot flies by, and everything ties up neatly in the end. Then there’s Lois Lowry’s ‘The Giver’ which I may have mentioned before- one of the dystopias. She’s also written sequels that I want to read (The Messenger’ and something else). I’m halfway though another book my cousin recommended- ‘The Book Thief’ by Marcus Zuzack’ and after that I think its going to be ‘Atonement’, before I go to see the movie.
Right now, I going into the books I’ve been reading lately. Schindler’s List first, which I read on the flight to Florida. Brilliant and intense, the story it told was just unbelievable. Both that people could sink to such depravity, in the name of doing good, and that people should have such courage to fight such a thing. Then there has been a series of lighter reads; two of Phillip Pullman’s Sally Lockhart series: ‘The Ruby in The Smoke’ and ‘The Shadow in the North’. Not fantasies as I had initially expected. More like Wilkie Collins’ ‘Moonstone’ or even a Sherlock Holmes. Both were very twisty and I love Lockhart being an independent-minded female financial consultant (talk about a boring job- just the sort that needs to be livened up by pirates and smugglers) in Victorian England. There’s so much more I liked about those books, but I can’t say more without giving the plot away. Only, I laughed at the person who actually solves the mystery in the first book. And I love Sally and Fred’s relationship in the second.
Then there are the rest of Baroness Emmuska Orczy’s Scarlet Pimpernel series, all available online at http://www.blakeneymanor.com/ . After a point they do get repetitive, you’d think Chauvelin would stop being so easily tricked. It starts feeling like those roadrunner cartoons. Still, good for timepass.
Also online, at http://www.gutenberg.org/wiki/Main_Page is ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’ and its sequel ‘Rupert of Hentzau’ both by Anthony Hope. The first is a fun adventure story, the second is substantially darker.
I’ve also been reading several of the Newberry award winning books, courtesy of my cousin. I’m a little surprised that some of these books are recommended to children, they’re all pretty deep and dark. I’ve read ‘The House of the Scorpions’ by Nancy farmer, and ‘The Goose Girl’ by Shannon Hale (she didn’t win the medal- in was a Newberry Honor for Princess Academy - not for this one). ‘The House of the Scorpions’ was excellent, if somewhat creepy.
‘The Goose Girl’ was good, but the there were several plothole, and the tone of the book went just a little preachy in the end. Much better was Louis Sachar’s ‘Holes’ which was also made into a very good movie. It’s a short book, and the plot flies by, and everything ties up neatly in the end. Then there’s Lois Lowry’s ‘The Giver’ which I may have mentioned before- one of the dystopias. She’s also written sequels that I want to read (The Messenger’ and something else). I’m halfway though another book my cousin recommended- ‘The Book Thief’ by Marcus Zuzack’ and after that I think its going to be ‘Atonement’, before I go to see the movie.
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