The Handsome Family – Honey Moon
Carrot Top 2009

Listen while reading:

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Finally we arrive in 2009. And so did the current Handsome Family record Honey Moon. I wrote about it earlier over at Velours Carpets For Lovers but I think the review uses way to many unnecessary metaphors. Whatever, the main intension has not changed since I penned it and I can just repeat, that I think Honey Moon is one of the best albums of 2009. After Last Days Of Wonder they had to raise the ante once more and – well – they totally did. Using Brett’s powerful and multifarious voice they created some of the most memorable tracks in their history like Linger, Let Me Linger or The Loneliness Of Magnets in the style of the reviewed If The World Should End In Fire (from Singing Bones) or These Golden Jewels (from Last Days Of Wonder). Doing so they followed the more country orientated path I mentioned earlier that initialized the second phase, as I call it. But besides the above mentioned songs, Honey Moon is just full of wonderful tunes combining all aspects of the work of The Handsome Family up to this point. And because this combination works out so well, I think Honey Moon will be their last record that will ever reach the highs of Through The Trees (1998). Please don’t get me wrong, I really hope they will continue to write such beautiful and awesome music but if you were on the top of the Mount Everest it is hard to get any higher. And if you manage do so, here I quote myself from my first review, you will ascend to the everlasting gods of music. Let’s hope they will ascend, but being realistic, Honey Moon seems to be the indestructible wall they build themselves. If you never ever checked out the music of the band I dedicated the last week to, I highly recommend to do so right now. Even though Honey Moon is not better than Through The Trees, it clearly is one of the few records I ever listened to that plays in the same league. So don’t wait and explore for yourself what alt. country or southern gothic is all about (in my opinion) and find you a charming sing along alt. country album with grandiose melodies which is full of mysteries and fables – and magic.

Brett and Rennie Sparks as The Handsome Family

So, dear Common Folk Meadow readers, I hope you liked my little journey to one of my all time favourite bands and I hope you found some nice music you enjoyed. Don’t wait and buy all of their albums because I think The Handsome Family wrote and is about to write music history. Be part of it (so to say). I think here is the right place to thank all my frie…no, just kidding…I just want to thank Rennie and Brett with all of my heart for making such great music and I wish them all the best for the future. Thank you!

Happy Friday All! Please forgive me for putting the blog up so late. Between the tryptophan hangover, all the cooking, cleaning and shopping I’ve done in the last 72 hours, I am running on fumes, so you can blame Thanksgiving  and Black Friday for that! I dont have much to say about the randomly selected videos I’m posting up today because, well, I’m still not fully functioning right now, lol. Today, I present to you a handful of songs some may have never heard or haven’t heard in a long time, from Boyz II Men, Changing Faces, Chi Ali, MC Breed, Nona Gaye. Just a few notes to add on the artists for today FYI. Changing Faces is making a coming back—don’t know how that come back will go, but they are, lol. Chi Ali is the little brother of Dres from the 90’s rap group “Blacksheep” (who has been featured on a past FF blog), rapper MC Breed (real name Eric Breed) passed away last year at almost this very date (11.22.08) and Nona Gaye is the daughter of the legendary singer Marvin Gaye. So if you didn’t know, now ya know. Please enjoy these songs, comment, vote and suggest. Have a blessed weekend!

*Exits outta the firescape*

Boyz II Men – Please Don’t Go (1993)

Changing Faces – G.H.E.T.T.O.U.T. (1997)

Chi Ali – Age Ain’t Nothin But A Number (1992)

MC Breed -  Ain’t No Future In Yo Frontin’ (1993)

Nona Gaye – The Things That We All Do For Love (1993)

Salma and Danii look fantastic and timeless. I love the bold lines and details and the way they have both chosen minimal accessories.

On this day after Thanksgiving, aka Black Friday, how about some Louis Prima and Keely Smith

doing That Old Black Magic for our Feel Good Friday offering.

For all you brave shoppers out there today, may the Black Friday Magic smile upon you. May everything you seek still be in stock and your bank account be full too.

October was but the music still lives on. Holding on to the present I traveled to the past and immersed myself in a pool filled with Soul music. Everything makes sense now. Enjoy these bangers and future classixxx and remember to spread the love.

Click on pic for download.

TRACKLISTING:

Here is another classic that I can tick off my to read list, I’m making slow but steady progress, too many new interesting books keep coming out to hinder me. This is one I rummaged off my Dad’s bookshelf which he won’t miss as he can’t stand this book. Even with my Dad complaining that it made no sense to him I still really wanted to read this and I wasn’t disappointed. Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin conceived this story when engaged in a literary competition with her lover Percy Blythe Shelley as to who could write the best horror. Mary and Percy had run away together for a tour of Europe, but in Switzerland due to poor weather they were confined inside reading ghost stories when a good friend the infamous Lord Byron suggested a competition. A competition that Mary won and so was born Frankenstein also known as The Modern Prometheus which was first published in 1818 and was an instant best seller. Unfortunately this was pretty much a one hit wonder for Mary Shelley as she became on marrying Percy, she did write several other books and compiled two books of Percy’s poetry but these are not as well known or praised as Frankenstein.

Robert Walton and his crew are on an expedition to the North Pole when they find themselves trapped by ice out in the middle of the lonely ocean. They are not alone however as one day the crew are met with the eerie sight of what seems to be a large man travelling by dog sled at terrific speed across the frozen ocean. But as quickly as this apparition appears it is also gone, leaving the crew wondering what madness could drive someone out here. Once the ice breaks the ship is able to sail again but it is not long after the captain is informed another man half drowned has been found and brought aboard. Walton nurses the man back to health at which point he learns that his charge is Victor Frankenstein, who was forced out onto the ice whilst in the pursuit of another. The other is the eerie man the crew had witnessed only days before but he is no man Frankenstein explains he is a monster. Frankenstein then regales the details and woe of his life to Walton, how he started with such hope and promise as a student of the sciences. Only to go on to become the creator and the father of this monster, this abhorred monster which has taken all that Frankenstein loved and held dear, he now lives only to hunt down and kill what he has created.

This is not the scariest book I’ve read it’s much more subtle than modern horror, this is a proper spine chilling tale of old. Mary Shelley like Emily Bronte is surprisingly dark and gothic in her writing style and you can certainly see why Frankenstein was such an instant hit. It is still both fresh and intriguing a tale today let alone when it was released in 1818. The lack of gore and detail of the violence is probably the main element that marks this book as different from modern horror, but I think that is actually what makes it scarier. Unlike modern horror which can often just spell it out to you here the reader is left to imagine the gaps in the detail, your own imagination is usually far worse for you than someone else’s I’ve found.

The comment I heard that this book made no sense is rubbish in my opinion though I must concede that this is not the easiest book to read. Shelley doesn’t just want to tell you a story with the overall meaning it is in a sense like every sentence uttered is in some small way a performance or a line of poetry. Made to sound nice not just convey information to you. Which does sound amazing but on the other hand can often slowdown and interfere with the flow of the narrative.

Overall I really enjoyed this book and would strongly recommend it to those that enjoy a good classic horror.

I recently read part of Italo Calvino’s set of essays, as collected in; “Why read the classics?”, which now has me questioning;

• What are my classics?
• How do I define a classic?
• What is the general definition of a classic?
• Why are they classics?
  • What makes them so?
  • Who says they are?

For example, something that strikes me as…ODD is that his book, “Why read the classics?” is published by the Vintage Classics range. I wonder if he knew that, and if so, did he appreciate the irony? Having checked the front I can see that he cannot have known, he died in 1985, and the book wasn’t published in the UK until 1999.

I wonder if the fact that he was published as a ‘classic’ would tickle him, or irritate…and prove that they hadn’t read/paid attention to his essays in the first place.

I digress.

General definition

Having literary of historical connotations and importance? The definition is not in the standard dictionary, this is pretty much an assumption on my part…but it doesn’t work, I mean what viable purpose could “Lorna Doone”, for example possibly serve except to bore the modern masses.

Who says they are?

A line from the film “Mona Lisa Smile” might suffice here in place of serious argument or discussion.

Teacher: “What is art?”

Student: “It’s only art when someone says it is”

Teacher: “It’s art!”

Student: “The right people!”

I was wondering, then, if this was the same for the classics, at least in essence. A bunch of white (that much is pretty evident from the obviousness of some of the selections) middle class men…I think this would cover it.

How do I define a classic?

I’m a classicist by degree, so to me, technically, the classics reference any and all things ancient Greek or Roman, which obviously in this instance is wholly beside the point and besides, that they are the classics. A classic is much harder for me to define with any degree of certainty.

I like Calvino’s sixth statement about what makes a classic in his view (After some thought, I have come to disagree on a few of his other reasoning’s, but number six at least seems applicable to my way of thinking)

“A classic is a book which has never exhausted all it has to say to its readers”

A truer word quite possibly never said Mr. Calvino.

What are my classics?

So then, what are my classics? This isn’t about which books are my favourites…well, obviously it is to some extent or they wouldn’t be my classics. More so then, that this is about books that are faithful and treasured friends, without meaning to sound so horrifically trite about the whole affair, more so because I don’t class any book as a friend.

I realise that whilst I am a voracious reader (a term which I am not applying lightly, I assure you); at only 26.9, the sheer quantity of books that I have not read is phenomenal and outfacing to think about. (When I am roaming the library for something to read, that will appeal to me at that moment in time, the quantity of books I have to choose from is vast, yet so many do not appeal.) So, in choosing your own classics, obviously you can only work with those books that you have read. Subsequently, my list of classics is subject to change, as I age and as I read more, a concept which is hardly beyond the edge of reason and hardly difficult for me to conceive and as I add wider and even more varied titles to my ever growing lists of those that I have read.

In the name of classics, I think there are two types; those that you feel you should read out of some form of obligation because they are a classic and those that you choose to read because they are your classics. My one and only true classic (I have others, as will be detailed later, but this is key and has long-standing on its side) is Louisa M. Alcott’s “Little Women”.

Louisa M. Alcott -“Little Women” 1868

Ironically, in my mind, this is one actually classed as a classic by the general consensus of the literary world. A view which both vexes and amuses me, vexes because I don’t like the fact that by labelling it a classic you’re potentially altering the readership from those who pick up out of love and those pretentious few who ‘read the classics’ or ‘have read them’ because they are classics, not that I think there should be such segregation when it comes to reading, simply because I dislike the thought that a classic of mine is merely something to ‘rack up’ in total of classics read for others. Amuses because I don’t think Alcott would have expected to have seen her work held in such esteem, 141 years after she wrote it.

I should clarify, when I talk about the novel ‘Little Women’ I am referencing the English edition, which is the first half of the American version only. The American version is ‘Little Women’ and ‘Good Wives’ all in one book.

My mom started reading it to me (I don’t actually recall if she read she whole thing to me, or just enough to get me hooked on my own behalf) when I was 10 or 11, I liked it well enough, finished it even, but at that time I was more enamoured with Susan Coolidge’s “What Katy did” and “What Katy did at school” which I adored and still do, but don’t necessarily class them as my classics, the protagonists, Katy and Clover Carr where closer to my age than the four girls in “Little Women”, which I think is what drew me to them more at the time. Ironically ‘What Katy did’ was a book that was written purely because of the success of Alcott’s work.

So I came back to “Little Women” at about 13 or 14, when I was closer to Jo’s age, since she is the main protagonist (she starts the book at 15, Meg 16, Amy 12 and Beth 13). I read it…then re-read it, then eventually realised that there were three others in the March family set of books and read those too, which, whilst I liked them and still re-read the other three, I’ve never returned to them with the same regularity that I have “Little Women”, which is almost yearly.

“Little Women” remains my main comfort book, on multiple levels; I read it, on average, as many times as twice a year, though often only once, from being about 14/15, which makes for between 9 and 20 times…possibly more, which is a lot of page turning for one book to take. I especially like to read it at Christmas, or at the very least in winter, even though only the first handful of chapters centre around that time of year, I still consider it to be an innately Christmas/winter book, I don’t know if that is a conclusion I reached myself, or whether that is simply the time of year when I first picked it up. I read it when I’m sad and require comfort from an ‘old friend’, but also when I am happy. Finally I re-read it when I can’t make up my mind what I want to read. When I’m feeling indecisive or uninspired by anything else at that moment, I read “Little Women”

And in that, I think I have finally pinpointed my definition of a true classic

“A true classic is a book that you are always ready and willing to read, even in the face of all other options.”

This book is most certainly that for me.

Fannie Flagg – “Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café”

Whilst I might not have read this one as many times, or as frequently as “Little Women”, we’re still talking in the double digits of reading times here. Likewise it is a book I turn to for comfort…though I’m not crazy about the title. However, unlike “Little Women”, due to the nature of the way this book is written, in segments of time that vacillates between; characters, time and place, both past and present, I can dip in and out of this book, in and out of the storyline to when and where I choose. Alternatively I can choose to read the segments that only relate to one of the multiple story/character arcs…at whim.

I saw the film first, which surprises me in thinking about it, for it is a strange turn of events that I would pick up a book because I have seen the film already.

Regardless.

I had to order the book, because WH Smith (where I did all my book and film shopping at that age…you know, back when they were still good) didn’t normally stock it, and I remember it taking a long time to get there. (That was the same year I ordered the film “Boys on the side”) I don’t recall how old I was, maybe 14? Give or take a year? I ordered the book because I enjoyed the film and because I’d fallen in love with Ruth Jamison (or Mary-Louise Parker, the jury is still out on that one), not Idgie like most other folk I know, no, I was Idgie, I loved Ruth.

Of course all of that is all highly irrelevant and I digress.

This book is one of my classics for so many reasons. Firstly it surpassed the film, I find it’s rare if I watch then read that I get as much out of the book than if I had done it the other way around. Secondly, I came to realise that I had not imagined that the relationship between Idgie and Ruth wasn’t actually something more; Flagg’s book confirmed to me that the film had ‘copped out’ on the matter.

But none of this answers the initial question, why is this book one of my classics? Every time I read this book I fall in love with Ruth just that little bit more, I get something new from the book every time, even if it is just a feeling of comfort and well-being, or if it is noticing a finer nuance of the text.

The interaction between me and the characters deepen with every reading, I am able to see the events play out more clearly in my mind, to hear and smell the things that they experience more with each re-read. That I can get something different, new or even the same thing just more intensely from this book every time I read it and that I always enjoy it no matter what my mood, makes it one of my classics.

Ultimately, it is incredibly difficult to explain to somebody else why a book is your classic. It is something so profoundly personal and is not necessarily a judgement or critical reading of the novesl you identify, but rather an emotional connection you have with the novels,  so it is virtually impossible that you could ever clarify your reasoning in a satisfactory way.

There are many other novels that I have read, and re-read that come close to becoming my classics, but none have been read so much as the two above. There are many books that I turn to again and again because there was something within the pages that called to me, made me want to experience the story being told over again.

Some of my favourites which didn’t make the cut

• Strangers in Paradise – Terry Moore, this one is right on the cusp and I suspect is about to fall over the edge to become classic number three.
• Pages for you – Sylvia Brownrigg, this one is very close to making the list, but somehow hasn’t managed to make the leap, at least not yet.
• The Gospel According to Larry – Janet Tashjian
• The World Unseen – Shamim Sarif
• The Shell House – Linda Newbury
• Becoming Bobbie – RJ Stevens
• Wicked – Gregory Maguire, I don’t think I will ever quite get over my love for Elphaba
• The Perks of being a wallflower – Stephen Chbosky… though the more times I read this, the less I think it would ever make my classic list.

There are others, but when doing these things it isn’t always easy to recall such things that would merit a mention. A shame but the list might become rather large if it were so.

What are your ‘classics’? How do you define a classic?

This book reminded me why I like school girl stories so much. A Girl of the Limberlost was written by Gene Stratton-Porter.

Elnora Comstock’s life isn’t easy. She has no father. Her mother doesn’t care about her and they are poor in any case. But Elnora is determined to go to high school. Fortunately, she has some kind neighbors who encourage her against all odds and Elnora is full of knowledge about the Limberlost swamp and uses that knowledge to collect the swamp’s bounties to help get her through high school.

You just have to admire Elnora’s courage and the fact that she doesn’t let her circumstances make her bitter. Instead, she is one of the most caring heroines I have ever read about. As for Mrs. Comstock, well you can’t agree with the way she treats Elnora, but you come to understand and sympathize with her. Talk about wasted years! Highly reccomended.

I wonder what the demographic would be if we knew what percentage of blog writers/readers were readers of other types of literature. I have been looking at some recent surveys about reading and it seems that the percentage of Americans that are reading is increasing for the first time in years–while that first appears as good news it does not mean we live in the midst of a group of serious bibliophiles. Most of the reading seems to be taking place in the fiction market and while there is certainly good fiction available, the success of “blockbusters” like Harry Potter (of years past) and the Twilight series does not bode well for the future of serious works.

For the time being let’s assume we at least have a significant interest in reading. As the polling data indicates what we are reading does make a difference–Mortimer Adler in How to Read a Book indicates that “the error of assuming that to be widely read and to be well-read are the same thing.” So what does it mean to be “well-read?” It obviously does not have to do with reading a lot of books, but with reading the right books. It was C.S. Lewis that pointed out that if a book is not worth reading many times it is not worth reading once. So what books are worth reading many times? Sets of books like The Harvard Classics or Great Books of the Western World are a great place to start. Find sources you trust and find recommended resources. There is a great list in the the appendix of How to Read a Book.

One of the important things to remember is not just to read books you are comfortable with–good reading should stretch us. Returning to Adler in How to Read A Book, “Good books are over your head; they would not be good for you if they were not. And books that are over your head weary you unless you can reach up to them and pull yourself up to their level.” That moves the question to a different level–Is the reading of the important books worth the effort? Those books are not going to be found on any bestseller list. In fact, the books that are worth our time are ones that we may have to search for. If I can return to C.S. Lewis for a moment–he has an important statement regarding what has become known as chronological snobbery–”the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited. You must find why it went out of date.” New is not necessarily better–just the opposite may be true.

I you are a reader I would be very interested in some of your own recommendations.

Pastor Jeff

Ulrich Schnauss. Kirsty Hawkshaw. Chapterhouse. Air Formation.

Yes it’s tomorrow. All of the above, live at the ICA, London Thursday 26th. Unfortunately it’s sold out, but if you’re coming, i will see you at the front.

If not, then enjoy these… and I wish you were there…

Chapterhouse – Pearl (1991)

Air Formation – Cold Morning (2007)

Johannes Schmoelling – Icewalk (Ulrich Schnauss mix) (2000)

Orbital (Halcyon On+On) (1992)

Yes i may have cheated with the Orbital track and yes Kirtsy Hawkshaw may be singing backwards, but her voice made that tune….

Just a quick etymological post.

Did you ever wonder why we call money ‘money’? Or how the Mint got its name despite its notable lack of peppermint fragrance (or taste)? It’s all because of the Romans.

When the Romans established their Mint, they did not set it up in its own building, but in a temple. This was probably to give the roots of their economy divine protection from robbers and other problems. The temple they chose was the temple of Juno who Warns, or in Latin, Juno Moneta. The little stamped metal discs which issued from the temple were called ‘Things of the one who warns’- monetae. Gradually these “monetae” took on a life of their own and spawned their own deities, the three Monetae, one for every type of metal used in coinage: gold, silver and bronze. They are always shown together, each holding a set of scales and a horn of plenty. Here’s a nice example issued by Commodus:

I find ancient money really interesting, but I’ll try and space out the posts a bit- I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea!

Opening lines of Virgil's Eclogues (Vatican)

Behind your verse so masterfully made
we hear the weeping of a Muse betrayed.

About half a year ago, I discovered the poetry of a German author named Stefan George (1868-1933). Even though I do not understand everything he wrote, I am impressed by his words. The man, however, was also a proto-Nazi. Yet, George’s political opinions do not really matter to me; art is art and should be judged as art in the first place, and as a political message only after that.

I can also appreciate Leni Riefenstahl’s notorious movie Triumph des Willens and Sergej Eisenstein’s October. I am fully aware of the repugnant political ideologies, but when I see those films, I can somehow dissociate from their messages, and focus on the artistic merits. The same goes for other artists: David was court painter of Napoleon, Raphael and Michelangelo served a papacy that was in desperat need of reform. Yet, their paintings are dear to me, or at least some of them.

So if I can make a distinction between art and political message, why can’t I just appreciate Virgil’s Aeneid, which I just reread, a bit more? I do not find it difficult to admit that his Georgics are among the finest that was written in Latin. The Eclogues do not irritate me either. And yet, there’s something that I find terribly annoying about the Aeneid.

Partly, it’s the use of outdated artistic forms. Those interfering deities had, somehow, a reality of their own in the days of Homer; for him, it was a fact that the gods were present during the fights. For Virgil, the use of the same motifs must have felt empty. As survivor of the civil wars, he had different ideas, and I think that his contemporaries must have appreciated the divine interventions as a literary jeu d’esprit only.

Another aspect is the ridiculous scene in which Anchises teaches “Roman history in the future tense” (as W.H. Auden aptly phrased it). It was avoidable; the same aim – the idea that all history is just a prefiguration of the coming of Augustus – might have been achieved by mirroring scenes from Roman history in the adventures of Aeneas. The effect would have been less terrible, yes even amusing; now, it is hard to take the poem seriously after the sixth book.

But my main criticism is that Virgil is making his art subject to a political system. I know I am inconsistent: I can ignore the political opinions of Michelangelo, Raphael, David, Eisenstein, Riefenstahl, and George, so why not Virgil? I wish I understood why. Maybe one of the reasons why I dislike Virgil, is that I see my own inconsistency.

Today, John Livecchi takes a look at a revival of the classic Broadway show, Oklahoma.

One advantage in working for WRL is gaining exposure to materials I may never have considered borrowing. Almost every day something turns up in the return bin that I haven’t read, heard, or seen, and I either check it out right then or make a mental note to do so soon.  The other day someone returned a DVD of Trevor Nunn’s 1998 London Production of Oklahoma!, and I happened to be on check in. What luck! Who knew such a thing even existed? I had seen the New York version of this production in 2002, but with a different actor in the lead role and had always wondered if Hugh Jackman of X-Man, Wolverine, and Australia fame had really been as good a “Curly” as the critics stated. The surprise is that Jackman’s even better and the entire production is so good, it’s like seeing a classic for the first time.

Still “doin’ fine” sixty-six years later, this Rodgers and Hammerstein landmark musical is now reborn in a haunting and richly human interpretation. Directed in 1998 by Trevor Nunn and choreographed by Susan Stroman, this new production set box office records during its runs in London and Broadway, captivating critics and audiences alike with by its fresh new take on a venerable classic. Luckily for television audiences, the magic of the original London cast is captured in this deluxe film adaptation which includes Hugh Jackman’s sensational, star-making performance as Curly. Also featured are original cast members Josefina Gabrielle as Laurey, Maureen Lipman of The Pianist as Aunt Eller, and 2002 Best Supporting Actor Tony winner Shuler Hensley as the ominous yet movingly sympathetic Jud Fry. In addition to the cast members already listed, the film includes impressive performances by Vicki Simon as Ado Annie, Peter Polycarpou as Ali Hakim and Jimmy Johnston as Will Parker.

One factor that makes this production so fresh was Nunn’s desire to replace the Agnes de Mille choreography—so intrinsic to the original musical—with the work of a contemporary choreographer. The Rodgers and Hammerstein organization consented, and wholeheartedly approved Nunn’s choice: two-time Tony winner Susan Stroman, later dubbed by one critic as “the de Mille of the Nineties.” Stroman’s inventive approach obliged her and Trevor Nunn look at this revered classic as a “new work.”

From its first note, sung off-stage while we watch Aunt Eller peacefully greeting the new day, to its rousing conclusion, everything about the production is innovative. The exchange between Curly and Laurey in act one is suddenly not simple flirtation, but an ongoing skirmish in the battle of the sexes. Laurey is not a coquette and Curly no hayseed. There’s something deep and real between them that only someone as wise as Aunt Eller can sense—and guide. We can feel the danger that lies in wait for them when Laurey impetuously includes Jud Fry in the equation. Later, even when we hate what Jud has in mind for the pair, we find ourselves sympathizing with his desperate loneliness.

The Ado Annie, Will Parker, Ali Hakim love triangle often portrayed as merely a comic counterpoint to the serious main story has a more somber tone here. More than just flighty, Ado shows a darker recklessness in her flirtations. Will may not be a deep thinker, but his affections are genuine, and the consequences more desperate for Annie if things don’t turn out as we all hope. Only Aunt Eller, of all the characters, seems to comprehend Ali Hakim’s sinister mixture of salesmanship and lust. Another major change Nunn and Stroman introduced was a re-interpretation of Laurey’s dream sequence. In all prior productions, the stage directions called for the real Laurey to observe the “dream Laurey” as her dance with a “dream Curly” was suddenly interrupted by the “dream Jud.”  Here the real Laurey and Curly dance and Laurey’s dream ominously foreshadows the play’s conclusion.

Act one was so exciting; I could hardly wait to see what was in store for the act two’s famous auction scene.  Nunn’s vision was to place it in a barn raising—so the scene opens with feuding cowboys and farmers building something together, but not necessarily in harmony. The action gives new meaning to Aunt Eller’s line from the well-known song: “I ain’t sayin’ I’m better than anybody else, but I’ll be danged if I ain’t just as good.” In an interview Nunn gave to the British press he said, “Revolutions have been launched over statements like that.” Act two’s highlight, of course, is the rousing interpretation of the show’s title song and its reprise once the menacing final conflict is resolved. Does the resolution please us all? We find ourselves pulled at the end—happy that things work out and deeply sad for all the suffering. Laurey grows up at play’s end and gains a little of Aunt Eller’s wisdom. Curly, too, stands upon the beginning of a new chapter—like the territory itself, hopeful, unbroken, but not without regrets.

The film takes place on the actual stage settings, but often cuts to close-ups and travel shots so that the overall feel of the piece is smooth and unified. The lighting and staging are as one would experience them in a live production. Nunn really works at combining the experience of watching live theater with film’s fluidity. A few people might object to the shots of the audience from the stage, especially when the audience applauds a particular number, but I found those cuts enhanced the show’s theatricality rather than diminish its impact. In addition to the filmed version of the whole play is a “behind the scenes” extra disc that is fascinating. The disc traces the history of the production and has insightful interviews with Nunn and Stroman as well as the major performers. It’s fun hearing the actors’ English accents after enjoying their “spot on” Oklahoma twang. This DVD set is a gem I’m thrilled to have happened upon in WRL’s collection and I highly recommend it for anyone hankering for a great “Broadway” experience. As Mary Rodgers, the author’s daughter said to the London Evening Standard on the play’s opening night, “It’s better than the original.” She ought to know having seen them both.

Check the WRL catalog for Trevor Nunn’s Oklahoma

Check the WRL catalog for the 1955 version of Oklahoma

She seemed glad to see me when I appeared in the kitchen, and by watching her I began to think there was some skill involved in being a girl. (from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee)

Okay, I don’t know if this really counts as a children’s book, but I’m going to file it under “young adult” so it can pass for one. I read it every year. It certainly tells a story from a child’s eye view and I just can’t not include it in this blog–Atticus and Miss Maudie have too much to tell us and Scout is just too delightful to miss.

I chose this quote for today because I am baking ten pies and two loaves of bread today. There is definitely some skill involved in being a girl.

wiki:

The Brood is a 1979 Canadian horror film written and directed by David Cronenberg, starring Oliver Reed, Samantha Eggar and Art Hindle. It was filmed in Toronto and Mississauga, Ontario. In 2004, one of its sequences was voted #78 among the “100 Scariest Movie Moments” by the Bravo Channel.^[1][2] The Brood was named 88th on the “Chicago Film Critics Association’s 100 Scariest Movies of All-Time”.^[3] The film was Cronenberg’s first major success.

Cronenberg has condemned the censorship of the climactic scene, “trimmed” in the United Kingdom, in which Eggar’s character gives birth to one of the monsters and starts tenderly licking it clean. “I had a long and loving close-up of Samantha licking the foetus… when the censors, those animals, cut it out, the result was that a lot of people thought she was eating her baby. That’s much worse than I was suggesting.”^[4]

CLICK THERE TO WATCH THE MOVIE ONLINE

Tunes Up! Classics apresenta o remix da Ashanti com o Notorious B.I.G., “Unfoolish”. A música tem como base o hit da cantora, “Foolish”, que na primeira semana do seu lançamento, colocou-a como a primeira mulher a ter os dois principais lugares da Billboard Hot 100 (“Foolish” e “What’s Luv?), batendo novo recorde com “Always on Time”, quando conseguiu, na mesma semana, ter três músicas entre os Top 10 da Billboard Hot 100, feito superado somente pelos Beatles. A participação do B.I.G. confere à música a qualidade e o peso da rima característicos do gangster. Letra da música.

LT Classics Challenge Discussion Questions Post! These questions are meant to guide my reading and the Thursday discussion post, as well as the reading of those following along. If you have no idea what I am talking about, please wander on over to the LT Classics Challenge Page ! Remember, those who participate in at least one discussion during the Challenge are entered in December’s drawing.

Beowulf is a poem written by a Christian monk who sings the praises of a pagan hero. How is this tension between the two religions shown? Is the ideology of Beowulf finally Christian, pagan, or both?

As you know, Beowulf was originally written in Old English, also known as Anglo-Saxon. Translator Michael Alexander notes in the introduction to the Penguin Classics edition that it’s nearly impossible to translate poetry from Anglo-Saxon to Modern English without losing something, whether in meaning, structure, or meter. To what extent do you believe this compromises both the poem and the readers’ experience?

Is this poem’s role as the only surviving English epic make it worthy of study? Is it important enough to take its place beside other epics, such as The Odyssey and The Iliad?

Remember, I’ll be discussing Beowulf on Thursday!

Epaminondas lived before the Christian era, outside the Jewish tradition, and has no claim whatsoever to be treated as a “saints in any literal sense. However, taking the term much more loosely, including those we might consider as role models, he clearly fits the bill. If that doesn’t suit you, think of him as included in the “others” of my title.

Together with his lover Pelopidas, Epaminondas was one of the celebrated “Sacred Band of Thebes”, a military company of 150 pairs of lovers. That’s right, an army band where it was compulsory to be gay – and partnered. We usually think of the Spartans as the most military of the Greek cities, and with good reason. While Athens (and some other cities following them) valued democracy, philosophy and intellectual life generally, young Spartans were educated for one thing only – war. After Sparta had convincingly beaten Athens and her allies in the Peloponnesian War, the victors extinguished democracy in the vanquished cities, and placed their allies in command as local despots.

In the case of Thebes, they met strong resistance from the defenders of democracy, in the form of the band of male lovers. Founded initially by Georgidas, on the principle that men never fight more bravely than when fighting to protect and support their loved ones alongside them, the founding proposition was soon confirmed. In their first engagement with the Spartan enemy, victors in the recent Peloponnesian war, the new company of Theban lovers overcame a Spartan army of two to three times their number, and were able to reinstate democracy in their city.

Epaminondaswas initially somewhat hidden in the shadow of his friend Pelopidas, who succeeded Georgidas as leader just a year after the band was founded. Together, they won many famous victories. Later, overshadowing his friend, he found the more enduring fame, and for many notable qualities beyond his illustrious military career.

After assisting in the re-establishment of democracy in Thebes, he developed a career as an orator and statesman as well as a soldier. Although he was instrumental in defeating Sparta in establishing Thebes as the dominant geek power, he refused to use this power to to subject other cities to Theban domination and pillage, so that he was known as a military liberator, not a conqueror. Many scholars have described him as Greece’s greatest warrior-statesman. Diodorus Siculus wrote that he excelled all the others in valour and military shrewdness – but also in “eloquence of speech, elevation of mind, contempt of lucre, and fairness…”.

The Romans also admired him, although less enthusiastic about his cultural achievements. Cornelius Nepos included him in his Book o Great Commanders, but found it necessary to excuse his reputation as a musician and dancer on the grounds that the Greeks had a fondness for these pursuits. He “praises without reservation Epaminondas’ intellectual and athletic prowess, and finds he meets roman standards of temperance, prudence and seriousness….. and was such a lover of truth that he never lied, even in jest.” .

He died in 362, in a battle which once again defeated the Spartans, but also ended Epaminondas’ own life.

This could be my kind of guy – accomplished, virtuous, a democrat and liberator – and good-looking. Except that he lived about two millennia too soon, he could easily be seen as a great Renaissance man. My only objection? Surely he’s just too good to be true. Yet this is the picture that comes down to us from the ancients.

And to think that men of this calibre are not permitted to serve openly in the US army.

(Source: The material above condenses a passage from “Homosexuality & Civilization” by Louis Crompton, which makes an excellent and stimulating introduction to the history of homosexuality.)

I saw the BBC series of Cranford when it aired on ABC TV a little while ago, and loved it.  I bought the DVD, but will leave it for a little while before watching it again.  No such restraint applies to the book though!  I decided to read it for the 1% Well Read Challenge 2009 because I’ve left it rather late to finish this challenge and Cranford didn’t seem very long at 175 page…

What a pleasure it is to read these stories, and what a rarity it is to find that pleasure enhanced by having seen the tales brought to life on film! It is impossible to read Cranford without seeing Judi Dench as Miss Matty, sobbing quietly over the faded letters of her parents, her tears running down the ‘well-worn furrows of her cheeks’.  It is heart-rending to see her poor old heart a-flutter over an invitation to visit Mr Holbrook, and her suppressed grief over the tragedy which ensues.  (I write ‘her poor old heart’ though she was only 52, now no age at all, but designated an old lady by the times in which Elizabeth Gaskell wrote).  Mr Holbrook had asked for her hand when she was in her youth but was not thought good enough for the daughter of a rector who had once had a sermon published.  As a window on another time, when social mores restricted the happiness of so many, Cranford is a gentle rival for the preoccupations which have rightly made the novels of Jane Austen the favourite classics of our time.

The TV series was a faithful reproduction, but what it could not quite capture was the voice of the narrator, Miss Matty’s friend Mary Smith.  Her wry observations about the genteel economies and eccentricities of the Cranford ladies are kindly meant; she understands why Miss Matty is frugal with her candles.  Mary’s droll commentary on the spat about Dr Johnson and Dickens is a cunning way for Gaskell to depict the foolish proprieties which blind Miss Deborah to Captain Brown’s good qualities – but Mary also recognises the extent to which Miss Matty depends on Miss Deborah and the affection between them.  Her observations make it clear, albeit with gentle humour, that the privations of Miss Matty’s life are not just material and emotional.  Education has been denied to the rector’s daughter too: her spelling is poor and there is no prospect of overcoming her financial embarrassment by teaching because mathematics and geography are beyond her.   Mary’s apparent detachment vanishes when she thinks she can locate Miss Matty’s long-lost brother, and more so when the old lady’s scanty income vanishes into a  failed bank; Mary is not just interested in caps, gowns and card games – she has initiative, perspicacity and a genuine affection for Miss Matty.

There are short stories in this collection too: Mr Harrison’s Confessions; The Doom of the Griffiths; Lois the Witch; Curious if True; Six Weeks at Heppenheim; and Cousin Phillis.  I haven’t read them yet – I’m reserving them for another day.

Author: Elizabeth Gaskell

Title: Cranford and Other Stories

Publisher:  Wordsworth Classics,  2006

ISBN:9781840224511

Source: Personal Library, $6.95.

Dahlia
Originally uploaded by mira_foto

A piece by our very own Deborah’s mom.  Such fun!

The Public vs. the Private Image
Gladys Clark Farmer
Vol. 7, No. 3 (Spring 1981)

Recently a new set of visiting teachers came to my home. As one sister began the lesson, she became obviously embarrassed, hesitated, then said, “You don’t need this. You and your family already do these things.”

I blushed a little at her sincere compliment and reassured her that I did need and appreciate the Relief Society lessons. But as she left, I felt a little uneasy. I sensed that she and others in the ward based their impressions of me on the most visible part of my life, my public accomplishments. Would they feel differently about me if they could have a private view of our home life?

While I try to avoid hypocrisy, I am human. But I think that most of us are afraid to acknowledge our human side to each other. Perhaps we have created a situation similar to the culture so poignantly described by Edward Robinson in his poem about the rich young man, Richard Corey, whom everyone envied because he seemed to have everything, but who went home and put a bullet through his head. Robinson was making a perceptive commentary on how deceiving it is to judge by appearances.

I think judging by appearances begins in childhood. We learn at a very early age how important our public image is, especially to our parents. Our behavior and performances in public become the manifestation of their success or failure. Their egos enmeshed in their offspring, they shower us with attention and praises for the 4-H, scout, and school prizes we’re awarded, the little league games we win, our solo parts in Primary programs, and our performances at piano and dance recitals. Their disappointment is just as evident when these recognitions go to a neighbor’s child instead, or when we may have embarrassed them in public by our actions or performance.

The importance of “looking good” is re-enforced by teachers and leaders. Having “arrived” becomes more important than the nature of the journey. Trophies are only given to the winners, not to those who try their hardest. One hundred per cent attendance is often stressed more than conduct, attitude, or what is learned while attending.

Because most children try hard to please those who give and withhold praise, they learn early to broadcast their
successes and quietly struggle with their failures. Some just quit taking risks; it is easier to take simpler classes and stay on the honor roll than to accept the challenge of a harder course with the possibility of failure.

By the time we are adults, the pattern is usually firmly established. We have the part of us that is recorded in our mother’s scrapbook of awards, newspaper clippings, and college and mission field letters which describe the good things that have happened to us. At the same time, there is another part of us secretly recorded in our locked diaries or in the recesses of our mind. Fortunately, there are usually enough good friends around who know and accept us with all our warts and blemishes so that we learn to cope with life and move forward.

But when we take on the roles of wives and mothers, we often find ourselves in a very lonely situation. Thoroughly indoctrinated with the “ideal home, bit of heaven” model, we find it hard to admit to ourselves, much less verbalize to others, feelings of concern, frustration, or disappointment. Now, more than ever before, we want our parents to be proud of us. We want to prove we can do well on our own. Letters home are less frequent and now include the latest achievements of our children, rather than our own honest thoughts.

Even those fortunate enough to have understanding and supportive husbands soon learn that men don’t enjoy leaving their problems at work only to come home to more domestic ones. Wives learn to choose their words, and the time to express them, very carefully.

To whom can we turn to expose our inner selves long enough to examine and resolve difficulty issues—such as how to cope with an unexpected pregnancy, how to overcome resentment over a husband’s increasing absence due to employment and church work, how to communicate with a sullen child?

The sisters in our ward—women who share some of our deepest commitments and hopes—seem like promising prospects, but in reality the members of our ward may be the very last to whom we’d turn. Why?

We fear their judgment. We suspect that they, even more than our non-member neighbors, judge by appearances. We fear that the measuring stick they will use to judge us is that “ideal” woman described in Church literature and lauded over the pulpit on Mother’s Day.

I’m convinced that living the Gospel does make people’s lives better, and that we as church members do have the responsibility of sharing our lifestyle with the outside world. But we aren’t content to let this way of life speak for itself. In our striving for perfection, we seem intent on displaying the appearance of a finished product rather than acknowledging the on-going process, with its accompanying growth and error. Just as we have made our historical characters flawless, we now want ourselves, and each other, to appear equally unflawed.

While most of us do sincerely enjoy our sisters in the church, we seldom communicate beyond a superficial, or just church-related, level. We don’t trust ourselves or them enough to think they would still like us if they knew that we didn’t like housework, that we shouted at our children, or that we preferred sex to sewing.

We sit quietly in mother education classes, happy to glean what wisdom we can. Perhaps we never note that it is the mothers with preschoolers who have the answers to the teen-age problems and the relaxed grandmothers who tell how they raised their babies, while those struggling with the immediate problem seldom make a comment. On a day that we feel particularly self-confident, we may share the secret that our baby, too, sucked his thumb for three years or cried whenever he was left. It is unlikely that we’d ‘s unthinkable he still wets his bed, and it’s unthinkable to speak of masturbation. The problems for which we need the most help are the ones we don’t dare discuss.

The success stories we will tell—just as we have learned to do all our lives; but the failures, which are just as normal and perhaps more frequent, we try to keep to ourselves. Feelings of guilt and loneliness increase, however, as we sense the disparity.

I well remember the amazement I experienced when I learned that some women whom I greatly admired were silently struggling with their own problems. In separate confidential moments, one told me about a child who had left the Church, another of a financial mistake which had cost them dearly, and a third about a difficult struggle she’d had with depression. Those confessions were made in whispered tones, with “please-don’t-think-less-of-me” looks. If these women had only understood the hope and courage their honesty gave me, they would have shared their burdens earlier. My love and respect for them has multiplied.

I appeal form ore honesty of the kind these women showed me and of the kind I have received from many of the contributors to Exponent II—even if this honesty brings with it the risk of being rejected by some. We need to accept the fact that Mormons, too, are human. Perhaps we could then forget our obsession with appearances, see the public/private image dichotomy, and reach out to one another in really beneficial and supportive communication.

This is an extension to the post from earlier this month!

I added the last of the requirements (a non-photographic image e.g. a scanned image) to my designs and played about with them until I achieved an effect that I was happy with…. Ta-dah!

These are only print screens which is the reason for the bad quality, sorry!

Today we are having a critique in class so hopefully I will get some interesting feedback….