Makers of a potential 3rd Dark Knight, hear my cry...

So, I just got back from the film Terminator Salvation and I have to say that it lived up to my extremely un-lofty expectations: it was exciting, loud, had great special effects, actors chewing the scenery, and terminators. What else are you looking for? But Paul, who loves these films almost as much as the Alien franchise was extremely disappointed. I tried to make him feel better by saying that, with the exception of movies that were filmed as an all-in-one such as Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings, film franchises should always stop after the first sequel. My cases in point: Empire Strikes Back rules. The Return of the Jedi has ewoks and a yodeling Chewbacca. Spiderman 2 has an insecure hero and Doc Ock. Spiderman 3 has a hip-thrusting Peter Parker. The Matrix should have stopped after the first one. Ditto Pirates of the Caribbean. I can't even begin to discuss the pile of manure that is X-men 3 after two very respectable efforts. The third Bourne movie is fine, but I think the first two are better. Paul tried to find exceptions to my rule. Unfortunately, the Harry Potter film franchise actually GOT BETTER by the 3rd, but since it sucked for the first two, that doesn't count (and it still continues to bring on the suckage)! So, now I must rest my case with my rule on "the curse of the third film." I'm just praying that any aspirants to making a third Dark Knight film will feel my pain and reconsider.

What. The. Hell. and other literary criticisms...

I've just finished the fourth of nine books that I have to read for my summer graduate class on the 20th Century Global Novel. Each of these first four have had atmosphere in spades. In fact, at times, that's all they are is atmosphere. Is it a symptom of explaining the aftershocks of 19th century colonialism and the societies that have risen from the ashes? What I think I mean is, are they so resonant with the atmosphere of their respective settings in an effort to capture and reflect that underlying culture? I'm not sure. But I'm fascinated by these lyrical authors who evoke Place so well. And the main issue in each so far has been power - whether it is a cultural clash, gender clash, familial relations clash - a lot of it seems to come down to power: who used to have it, who has it now - and how the newly empowered are often no better than their predecessors. Among other things. All I can say so far, and I just wanted to spell some of this out for myself, is Holy Wow. Pretty amazing books. I LOVED J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace and Michael Ondaatje's Anil's Ghost and really liked Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea. I have more mixed feelings about Jamaica Kincaid's Annie John but it was drenched in atmosphere.

So, now for my "what the hell" moment: I looked up some critical reviews on each of the books and just have a bone to pick with these "literary" personages of The New York Times book review, especially this guy: http://www.nytimes.com/books/00/05/14/reviews/000514.14ederlt.html. What the F is this even saying? Honestly. This is just bad writing. It says nothing but has a lot of stylistic pyrotechnics. Someone ought to punch this guy. I'm just sayin'.

NOT child abuse

Headlines meet poetry:

Today my A.P. English students and I were discussing a favorite poem, "My Papa's Waltz" by Theodore Roethke. The poem is as follows:

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

While some of the imagery and diction, especially towards the end of the poem, seem to evoke disturbing emotions, the poem is NOT about child abuse. It is true that this is an unsettling situation, but there is also love and fond remembrance and no indication that the child is being beaten. One of my students said, "I still think that's child abuse." And another student responded, "Well, look at the date. This was written in the '40s. Right NOW people think that's child abuse, because you can't even slightly SPANK your child anymore!"

After this discussion today, I read an article on MSN about the little boy, David, whose dad filmed him totally out of it as he returns from a dental surgery. I think it's hilarious! It's not exploitative or abusive, but the parents have gone on national television defending their decision to film him (because the mom was at work and not with him for the surgery or the aftermath) and then post it (because friends requested to see it and then it went viral),because people have reacted so violently with their criticism of these parents. I am annoyed with society and our allowing certain behaviors and disrespect to go unchecked by our youth, while scrutinizing and over-analyzing any adult-child interactions to death.

resistence is futile

Every end-of-the-year the impulse that must be overcome, but never is, is to produce "Best of ___" lists. This year, I perused the MSN Entertainment staff's "Best Films of 2008" list and hadn't heard of three-fourths of the films. While it is true that I spent the summer with Shakespeare and was unaware of Summer blockbusters, for the most part, and I have spent the majority of the Fall grading papers and trying to keep my head above water, I don't feel like I could possibly be that out of touch. Of course, every awards season I am made aware that I have spent my movie-viewing time mostly NOT seeing the award-winning films, at least I have heard of them. Not so this year. However, I was pleased to see on the list two films that I would put on my "list," as well. So, to underscore my new New Year's resolution to indulge myself in anything I want and not give up anything for the new year, I will also succumb to list-making and will publish some lists of my own.

Best Films I Saw in 2008:

• In Bruges (not that I'm recommending to my loved ones this violent and profanity-laden pic, but I thought the dark humor and un-PC-ness was hilarious and refreshing and that the acting was superb)
• Wall-E (beautiful and breathtaking and inspiring that a film could say so much without many words)
• Iron Man (I felt this was a perfectly executed action/comic book film with humor and a real theme and a beautiful, beautiful leading man!)
• The Dark Knight (I'm not as gaga over this as many people, but I thoroughly enjoyed it, and thought the acting was excellent - not just Heath Ledger, who I thought was great, but not BETTER THAN Christian Bale or Aaron Eckert or Gary Oldman)
• The Incredible Hulk (I think it is a shame that no one is talking about this movie - I felt that of the bland offerings of films this year, that the comic book films were a cut above, as far as acting and storyline, and I applaud them!)

Enough of that... now, for best books I read this year:

• Fighting Ruben Wolfe - I love Markus Zusak and think more people should appreciate his beautiful writing craftsmanship. He deserved the awards he received for The Book Thief, but I like this one better and also recommend Getting the Girl.
• Suite Scarlett - My sister discovered for me a lovely new YA author, Maureen Johnson, and I have been thoroughly enjoying her books!
• Yes Man - Yes, the Jim Carrey movie is made from this, but from what I've seen of the trailers - and the fact that it is Jim Carrey and no longer an obscure-British-television-producer-guy - the movie cannot possibly do the hilarity that is this book justice!
• While the first few books in the series are older than this year, I discovered the Odd Thomas series by Dean Koontz and really, really love it!
• And while I'm talking about an author, rather than single books, I love the mysteries written by my friend, Virginia Smith, and highly recommend them!
• Faeries of Dreamdark - Laini Taylor has a lovely writing style and a refreshingly new and creative world she has created.
• Will in the World - I really, really enjoyed this biography/history/critical analysis of Shakespeare's life and times.
  

Well, I'm sure there are a few more, but really, the sad thing is, I've spent the year reading books that I was underwhelmed by (other than my books for my Shakespeare class!). Sigh.

And, one more list, my best moments of 2008:

Working backwards from now to the beginning of the year:

• My superb birthday party.
• Seeing a double rainbow in Ireland.
• Pretty much being in Paris.
• Seeing Hamlet at the Royal Shakespeare Company with David Tennant and Patrick Stewart.
• Living in Oxford for the summer.
• Receiving the KSL "Teacher Feature" award.
• Being with my family - especially being with Paul and Dash!

Egad! Another wedding descends...

So, the plain truth is that I am a student of Breadloaf School of English which is administered out of Middlebury College in Vermont. A prestigious college and program, actually, but NOT affiliated with Lincoln College and Oxford University, with the exception that they host our school in the summers, the director is also a don at Lincoln, and several of the professors are Oxford University "Fellows." All this is a prelude to the situation I feel suddenly compelled to describe. It is so amazing to be here and Lincoln is a beautiful college with lovely people. Every so often, however, they make you aware that you are still a visitor and not part of the club. Case in point, my unbearable room when I first arrived at Breadloaf. Apparently the College (note the capital "C") had two weddings of - I can only assume - two "fellows" or some such association with the College (I can only assume, since I can't imagine they prostitute their facilities for the common riffraff) planned for the first two Saturdays in August - today being the second one. They also had a couple of weekend invites or events or some such for which they were providing rooms for other College associates and/or "Fellows" (our Assistant to the Director calls it "Old Boys' Club Weekends"). Therefore, when the Breadloaf people arrived to set up for the summer, they were shorted about 10 promised rooms and had to scramble and accept some fairly appalling accommodations. The only reason it eventually worked out for me and a few others who were able to "upgrade" as it were (though, still not the most ideal room as I will explain in a mo) was through the unfortuate circumstances of a few students withdraw from the program this summer. Pretty dodgy, if you ask me, and rather shabbily done of the college, as well.
Now to the subject of weddings. Last Saturday was part of the "big push" weekend in our program, where everyone - and I mean EVERYONE - was working on their final papers and projects. The atmosphere was pretty charged and stressed out. And, much to everyone's delight and approbation, an enormous group of giggling bridesmaids (there were around six to eight of just THEM!) and a bunch of wedding guests descended. And took up all available space and oxygen (I am still speechless that the rooms they occupied had remained empty all this time just for one or two events.... or maybe not so speechless.). I have the amazing good fortune to be in the only student "dorm" room on a floor of what are called "Fellows Guest Rooms" - basically very nice rooms reserved for Lincoln College Fellows or invited guests to stay.... Or, apparently, whole, vast, noisy, squawking wedding parties. Who come in like locusts and clog the halls. Who begin their shenanigans early Saturday morning, when I have been up late Friday night writing a paper, and who speak and cackle loudly until 2 p.m. while I try to continue said paper. Finally, the bride - who, by the way, fulfilled one of those fairytale dealies: totally plain girl looking absolutely stunning AND with exquisite taste in bridesmaid dresses they actually could wear again to a very fancy dress occasion - and her entourage, all looking smashing in British-style tuxes, top hats and canes, left in a horse drawn carriage for the church.
Blessed silence. An hour later, a rock band started tuning instruments in our quad. I cannot express the incongruity of having a band with a horrifyingly bad, screechy female lead, running through some of the shameful secrets of the music top 40 canon from about 20 years ago (none seeming particularly suited to a wedding, anyway), echoing around the walls of a 600-year-old quad. Our program offices were "informed" that there "might" be a "string quartet" that would be somewhat disturbing for a few hours in the afternoon. This was a rock band that rehearsed for an hour and played for two very long, very worn hours. Oh the lies said with such polite deference! (Of course, at our last Deep Hall gathering this past week, the college paid for a few round of pints to apologize. Fat lot of good it did ME!)
During this day of wonders, here's little ol' me in my room trying to type with my headphones in and iPod blasting. I didn't go elsewhere, because our library is in the original cathedral of the college about 50 feet from the festivities and I knew I'd be able to hear it all there. I didn't want to drag all my stuff into the Bodleian library - mainly because I kept trusting that it would end sometime soon, please oh please, Powers-that-be!
Blissfully, the painful pre-dinner band ended and the party used our dining hall, which IS a stunning place for a banquet, I must say (Actually this was the only advantage to the entire day, since we were given money that in theory would have been used for OUR dinner and were able to actually go and eat something that wasn't deep-fried and covered in brown gravy or deep-fried and covered in cream). The all-day wedding extravaganza then took their show down into Deep Hall which is our College pub, and which just so happens to be underneath the wing that my room is on. A theme is developing here, no?
However, I was able to get a large amount of my paper written, anyway, and then went to bed. And was awakened every 20 minutes or so by slamming doors and loud laughter coming in and out of my hall until 2:30 a.m. Bitter? Who, me?
Therefore, no one could possibly imagine my joy when the doors in my hall began slamming repeatedly, beginning at 7 a.m. today. And the loud talking. And the giggling. Thankfully, I am mostly packed and my class is over. I leave tomorrow with Sarah for Dublin.
And, the evil gargoyle inside me is gleefully rubbing its hands together as the rain is just pouring down outside. I take this as a good sign that another horrifying top 40 cover band won't be rocking out the Breadloaf graduation this afternoon. As for getting some sleep before I have to get up at 6 a.m. to get to the airport? Who needs it?

"Good night, Sweet Prince"

I have been waiting for 20 years to see my own vision of Hamlet actually performed. I have had a literary crush on the character of Hamlet, since I first read him when I was in high school. I have seen 2 stage productions and several film Hamlets and have never been satisfied. (Please don't get me started on what Olivier did to my man: "This is a story about a man who cannot make up his mind..."! What is he talking about?! I don't care if he IS Olivier and has numerous theatres named after him; he's got it all wrong! Grrr. Grrr.).


Tonight I have seen my Hamlet and was left in tears. Happy tears. I have just left Stratford's Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Hamlet, starring David Tennant, of the BBC television's "Dr. Who" fame, in the title role, with Patrick Stewart as his uncle, step-father, king, and nemesis Claudius. Just because these are recognizable stars in the acting world did not mean to me that they were a shoo-in for interpreting this transcendant, and most wonderful, of all literary texts (see angst over Olivier above!). I was filled with a lot of trepidation and anticipation beforehand, believe me. But they did it! They blew my mind. Not only was the acting superb, and in the case of the title role, flawless, but everything else was brilliant. The modern costuming, the lighting, the incredible minimalist mirrored stage, even the cuts worked.

I was mesmerized. I was thrilled. And even though we all knew what was coming, I just did. not. want. Hamlet. to. die. Ahhhh.

I guess I can now die happy, myself. Because, as Hamlet says, "There's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will." I'm still in tears and just had to share my excitement over one of the most memorable experiences of my life. That is all.


Here's a link to The Guardian newspaper about the performance: http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/gallery/2008/jul/31/david.tennant.theatre.shakespeare?picture=336095864

Sigh.

I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember

Here I am!!! (I'm a terrible blogger, but bear with me.)

“I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking. It is all…like an opera.” - William Butler Yeats

So, I arrived in Oxford on July 1st after a horrifying 20 hours of travel, long wait in the customs line, and long lines waiting for an Oxford coach. Happily, I was met at the bus station by my lovely friend, Sarah Chapple, which made coming to Oxford so much less intimidating. Although intimidating is still the word. The University buildings are mostly between 500 to 800 years old, and the University itself is made up of 39 "colleges and halls." According to the quaint and fabulous The Dodo Guide to Oxford:

Oxford University is a confederation of all its colleges, each of which is self governing, a small world unto itself where its students eat, sleep, and meet their tutors. The University is the overall authoritative and administrative body, organising curricula, the libraries, laboratories, examinations, managing finances and property, and conferring degrees. Its parliament is called Congregation, while legislation is proposed by the Council
of the University (which recently replaced the grandly named Hebdomadal--that is
Latin for weekly--Council)(17).

I'm at Lincoln College. For some excellent info on this pretty awesome, and incredibly and centrally located college, here's some good stuff on - ahem - wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincoln_College_Oxford

I'm enrolled in a class led by Professor Miriam Gilbert called "Shakespeare: Page and Stage," and believe me, it's exactly that! Professor Gilbert is fabulous and dynamic and is an expert on the translation of Shakespeare from the text on the page to the stage. During the time we're in class, from July 3rd to August 8th, we are seeing 10 performances and reading 9 plays (one performance is the same play twice - A Midsummer Night's Dream). We're reading: The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Taming of the Shrew, The Merry Wives of Windsor, King Lear, Twelfth Night, Romeo and Juliet, and (my favorite) Hamlet. We're also seeing and reading one non-Shakespeare: The Revenger's Tragedy, which is a fascinating Jacobean drama that is disturbing, gross, and interesting.

When I first arrived, I was given a room in Grove Quad (the college is made up of rooms and stairways which surround three open "quads") at the top of a little, windy, narrow staircase in Stairway 12. It would have been manageable, except that it was literally 4 feet wide by 6 feet long. It accomodated a bed and a very small desk/ledge and small, triangular corner closet. (The closet reminded me of that scene in the BBC's Pride and Prejudice when Mr. Collins proudly shows Elizabeth the closet in her room that has been fitted with shelves and she says, "Shelves in the closet, happy thought." Which is what went through my head every time I glanced over to see my two suitcases and duffle bag spilling out of where I had to stack them to store my clothes. Fortunately for me and also, sadly, one of the students here had to withdraw and I was given her room, which is at least twice the size with ample closet and dresser space. I can now shower my entire body at one time and don't accidently open the door when I wash my hair. I am in Stairway 13 on the ground floor as well. Happy for me. The number 13 is my lucky number once again.

There's this awesome room reached through a door in the wall in the middle of one of the archways to the quads that is a reception area/conference room, a pub called "Deep Hall," which is literally below the rooms in one of the walls and has all these amazing low beams and half-timbered ceiling, and our classroom is in a room on the way to the college library which is in the original Lincoln chapel. If you can't tell from all these descriptions, I am beside myself with how amazing this whole experience is!