It is rare that I see a movie without knowing anything about it–Howard’s End comes to mind, but nothing else. However, my mother and I had an Ikea trip planned, and then we went to dinner and this movie. It was a movie-for-the-masses, but fun, and fairly well done.
ps. Oh-my-gosh, until I grabbed the poster I forgot about the “two Taylors” in this. They were hilarious!
From the depths of my inbox–clearly the resolution is going well–clipped from the paper at some indeterminate time:
When I walk into my kitchen today, I am not alone…We bring fathers and mothers and kitchen tables, and every meal we have ever eaten. Food is never just food. It’s also a way of getting at something else: who we are, who we have been, and who we want to be.
Their lack of stretch was one of the signs of their age. They also had holes all over them. I had to make sure to put the right one on the right hand, or the holes would let in the cold air. Today, when performing the steering with one hand teeth grabbing maneuver, one of the gloves dropped to the ground. I gave a movie worthy cry of anguish, but didn’t stop the bike and backtrack to rescue the glove. I just let it go. It was time to move on to another pair of gloves.
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Yes, yes, I did memorize this because of the recently released Eastwood/Freeman/Damon movie. And yes, I memorized it so that I could quote from a poem that appeared in Dead Poets Society.
Initially, I dismissed this poem as being incredibly over-the-top, white-man’s-burden, straight from the Age of Empire. I mean really, where is the village? But then, I had a couple of annoying and rough days at work and the thing that was so off putting about the poem initially became my favorite thing. When I’m having a bad day, it is great fun to recite this poem dramatically, ideally at top volume. Although in the fell clutch of that circumstance, I actually did do a lot of complaining, which was not really wincing or crying aloud, but still probably not true to the stoic nature of the poem.
Invictus went quickly into my brain which gave me time to put to memory another poem that comes in handy:
How Not to Have to Dry the Dishes
Shel Silverstein
If you have to dry the dishes
(Such an awful boring chore)
If you have to dry the dishes
(‘Stead of going to the store)
If you have to dry the dishes
And you drop one on the floor
Maybe they won’t let you
Dry the dishes anymore
Let me just say that in my position as Administrative Coordinator (which really just means school secretary) I find reason to recite this poem on a fairly regular basis.
A goodly number of books this month, helped along by the day in bed reading on 1/1/10. This was a good month for reading and I suspect many of these books will appear at the end of 2010 book awards.
Read
Heart Sick
Chelsea Cain
“Gloriously Gruesome Suspense…” said the Staff Pick bookmark inserted in this book. Boy, does that hit the nail on the head. Still, I devoured it, gruesome though it was. How could I not? It’s written by the woman I think of as my “older sister” (a theoretical relationship similar to the one I have with my “movie boyfriend” Edward Norton) and the book is set firmly in actual, recognizable Portland.
The serial killer/murder mystery is not really my genre (aside from the book couple–Kenzie/Gennaro–I want to marry) and I suspect this story might be a tiny bit predictable. I had to skip entire pages of text because I don’t do torture. Still, aside from those things, how could I not love a book set in my born-again home town, with a main character subletting a condo not far from where I work and dialogue such as this:
“Archie will explain. He’s downstairs in the car. I couldn’t find a fucking place to park. Your neighborhood is awash with ambling Yuppies.”
Can I really refer to a gruesome, disturbing book as delightful? With my soft spot for Chelsea Cain, indeed I can.
Laura Ingalls Wilder: A writer’s life
Pamela Smith Hall
I undoubtedly know about this book because the author is a Portlander, but I would have found it anyway. I tend to read everything I come across that has to do with Wilder.
This was a very readable, accessible book that traces Wilder’s journey as a writer and seems specifically to have been written to discount the theories that some authors have put forth that Wilder’s daughter Rose Wilder Lane wrote the Little House Series.
I had discounted those theories already as they seemed to overlook the writing career Wilder had before she began her famous series. The book follows Wilder’s life chronologically, and, in her early years, compares and contrasts Wilder’s unpublished autobiographical manuscript Pioneer Girl with details in the Little House series. This in itself was interesting.
A teacher at my school was annoyed at her student teacher for labeling the Little House series as fiction. “They are autobiography!” she firmly stated. I kept quiet, and wondered just how they are shelved at the official library. I have read enough to know that her books are not the whole truth of her life. Hill does an excellent job of highlighting the changes Wilder made to her own story to establish the mythos of her family–her experiences, heightened by her story telling and shaped by her and her daughter’s editing, have become the pioneer experience for millions of people across the world.
The other point gleaned from this book is to have a tough hide if your own daughter is your editor. Wilder and Lane were close, but Lane rejected the life her mother chose–leaving it as soon as she could. Hill provides evidence, again and again, of a mother daughter relationship probably familiar to many. It is a relationship both close and strained, and Lane comes across as a ruthless editor, unsparing of her mother’s feelings.
Still, the two remained close throughout their lives and their work together provided a series that has probably done more than any other to shape my world view. The book provides a nice bibliography for me to plunder, and has me wondering why, aside from the unspeakable television series, the story of the Ingalls family has never been adapted for the silver screen. Also, is there a good biography of Rose Wilder Lane?
The Dawn of a To-Morrow
Francis Hodgson Burnett
I came across this book while moodily wandering the stacks and checked it out partially because I’d never read any adult fiction by Burnett, but primarily because it was incredibly short and I figured I could handle it.
Had I not started reading it at 1:23 am, I probably could have finished this in one sitting. This strikes me as something that originally was serialized in a magazine at the turn of the century. Unlike most books written before 1950 and written in dialect, this was an incredibly easy read.
People familiar with the Annotated Secret Garden will recognize Burnett’s life philosophy in this book. People familiar with Wayne Dyer’s beliefs will not find Burnett’s views much different than his.
Overall, a sweet story, and a nice way to begin the new year.
The Last Summer (of you and me)
Ann Brashares
I picked this book up at the library off a display featuring “Bildungsromans” which, a helpful sign explained to me was: “a novel about the early years of somebody’s life, exploring the development of his or her character and personality.” God, I love librarians. Who knew that my favorite type of book actually had a name? And such a fun one.
I was also interested in seeing how Brashares fared writing adult fiction. Sometimes the transition between Young Adult and Adult Fiction *ahem, Judy Blume, ahem* can be a rocky one. Her “Traveling Pants” were fabulous, could she maintain her winning streak in the harsh world of adult fiction?
I loved this book. Every once in awhile I come across a book where the author writes–so much better than I ever could–the feelings I have. This was one of those novels. I’ve been thinking of first loves now and again lately, and how heart breaking they always are. Even if they end in the best possible way, doesn’t every one look back at them with a sense of sadness? I think Curtis Sittenfeld hit the nail on the head in Amercian Wife when she wrote: “..her tone was reflective in that way that is inevitably sad, because the past is part sad.”
So this story of three people merging their past with their present was wonderful to submerge myself in. The tension, ache and slowly building tragedy were delightful. I saw what was going to happen and how it would end, and I didn’t care. It was the journey I enjoyed the most. What a beautiful way to spend a cold and rainy day. This is why I am a reader.
Started, but did not finish
Sexing the Cherry
Jeanette Winterson
A clerk at Krakow, a coffee shop, recommended this book to me. I liked the title, but that was a about it. I get what the author was doing, I just couldn’t stay focused on the story because of it.
Convictions
John Kroger
I expected to begin this book and then drift away from it early on and eventually take it back to the library. This is what happened, but not for the reasons I thought. This book is great! It is witty and interesting and easy to read, and a fascinating look at an area of law most of us non-lawyers probably barely think about. I highly recommend it. It is also a very long book and Kroger won an Oregon book award this year so people at the library requested it before I could finish it. I would like to someday, though. And you should read it too.
Wow! This movie was so good, I’m compelled to write a one word sentence. The acting by all players was fantastic and I always love to see Emma Thompson.
