i just finised reading Push I really enjoyed it as much of a horrific sad story it was and by horrific I’m not exaggerating, it was a shitty life this young girl had. i have been having the reading bug. I am already starting on a new one, A Christmas Caroline, it’s by the same who wrote Love Monkey which i recommend especially to the men out there. I was saving this read for the season, so i’m happy i get to read now. So if you have any recommendations please send them by way. I’m hoping to start on Bolivian Diary and Caramelo in the new year!

yay for reading!!

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IMDB link  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0929632/

IMDB ratings   7.5/10   2,172 votes

Release Date : 3 December 2009 (Netherlands)

Genre : Drama

Plot : Claireece Precious Jones endures unimaginable hardships in her young life. Abused by her mother, raped by her father, she grows up poor, angry, illiterate, fat, unloved and generally unnoticed. So what better way to learn about her than through her own, halting dialect.

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Writing about a movie like Precious (2009, Lee Daniels) is fraught with difficulties and opportunities for saying the wrong thing. As a social problem film, based on Sapphire’s novel Push, Precious attempts to illuminate, with as much visceral charge as possible, the struggles of one African American teenager to escape soul crushing poverty. The film thrusts its “reality” in the viewer’s face like a dare, effectively asking us “Can you watch this? Can you stomach this?”

For example, early in the film we see Precious (Gabourey Sidibe) washing dishes in the dim, depressing kitchen of the New York City apartment she shares  with her somewhat one-dimensionally villainous mother, Mary (Mo’Nique). In the background of the frame Mary barks questions at her daughter, the glow of the television screen reflected on her angry face. But we remain in the foreground of the shot, with Precious, as she measures her words, almost swallowing them, knowing that any response she offers will be the wrong one. Suddenly, violence explodes the frame as Mary hurls a heavy object at her daughter’s head, knocking her to the ground.  It a shocking moment that immediately cuts to a flashback of Precious being raped by her father. The filmmaker clearly wants to place the viewer in Precious’ point of view: we hear the sickening, rhythmic pulse of the creaking mattress, the crying of a baby (the product of previous sexual abuses), and the grunting of her father, who whispers to his daughter as he defiles her.  It is a truly horrifying scene.

When life becomes too intense for Precious, as it does in this scene, she imagines herself in fantasy worlds where she is a glamorous star, and thankfully, the viewer gets to go along with her (who would want to stay in that rape scene?). It is a testament to Sidibe’s acting skills that she is able to create such a vivid distinction between the woman she is in her fantasies and the woman she is in real life; one persona beams, struts and asks you to look and admire, while the other shrinks inward and demands that you look away.

The idyllic savior, Blu Rain (Paula Patton)

Although Precious swerves perilously close to the “poverty porn”  found in last year’s critical darling, Slumdog Millionaire (2008, Danny Boyle), I think it was able to avoid most of the pitfalls of its “children in peril” predecessor. While Slumdog  seemed to revel in its moments of high tragedy — the blinding of a young boy with hot acid, the violent raiding of a slum village, the prostitution of little girls – Precious exposes us to the horrors of its protagonist’s life but only in small bursts.  Furthermore, the message of Slumdog  seemed to be that “Poverty sucks but it will prepare you to later win a lot money in a game show, to be followed by a really fun Bollywood number in a train station with the woman of your dreams, so don’t feel too bad about it. ” Or maybe I just misread the film?

Poverty porn in Slumdog

By contrast, Precious had a more ambiguous ending. After (rightfully) refusing to allow her mother back into her life (a scene that generated a round of applause at my screening), we see Precious emerge on the streets of New York, with her two children. Precious is still poor, still only reading at an 8th grade level, still the product of (double) incest, still HIV positive, still a single mother, but she is smiling. And the non-diegetic music sounds almost triumphant.  But this is no choreographed Bollywood number. The audience does not exit the theater feeling “Phew! I’m glad it all worked out in the end.” Rather, as the credits rolled I felt that I had heard one woman’s story, that this story was still unfolding somewhere, and that she still had much to do.

Thus, I was relieved to find that Precious was not nearly as exploitative as I thought it would be (though many critics disagree), but this does not sum up my experience of the film. While I sat in my chair, horrified and saddened by the images on the screen, something very different was happening in that sold out movie theater. People were laughing. A lot.

Our Dickensian villain

For example, one of the film’s most (at least for me) emotionally powerful scenes is where Mary (Mo’Nique) finally admits to her culpability in the repeated raping of her daughter (and yes, Mo’Nique truly deserves all the buzz she has been getting for this role). I don’t think we are intended to empathize with Mary in this scene, but we do gain some insight into how her home became a nightmare of rape and anger and jealousy. It is difficult for Mary to vocalize these horrible things and the weight of this confession causes her to blubber and sputter. I cried during this scene but most of the people in the theater were laughing. It was a curious moment for me because I wondered if these people were just hard-hearted cynics or if  maybe I was just a sap.

When I got home that night I began to search online to see if this phenomenon had happened anywhere else and was surprised to see that it had (go here, here and here ). So what to make of this laughter? I have a few ideas:

1. The Mo’Nique Factor

As I mentioned, Mo’Nique was really wonderful and convincing in this role. But, as we all know, Mo’Nique is first and foremost a comedienne. And fans of her work, who would be lured to the film, curious to see this actress in a new role, possibly found it difficult to take her seriously.

Mo'Nique the Comedienne

2. People were Uncomfortable

It is awkward to watch images of rape and child abuse in any setting, but in a crowded theater it becomes even more awkward. And given that Precious was punctuated with fantasy images and moments of genuine comic relief, I think laughter may have been a natural response during those moments of stunned silence, when the images onscreen were simply too horrifying to process.

3. The Tyler Perry Factor

Precious is not a Tyler Perry film, but he did co-produce it (along with Oprah Winfrey) and his name was linked with the film in the media blitz leading up to its release ( also here and here). Other Perry-directed films, like The Family that Preys (2009) and Madea’s Family Reunion (2002), mix broad comedy with moments of real tragedy. Therefore, any audience members drawn into the theaters based on Tyler’s brand name may have been expecting to laugh.

Tyler Perry

4. It Really Is Poverty Porn

Initially I was a bit disturbed by the audience’s response to this film. How could they laugh at such tragedy? But after mulling it over for a few days I started wonder if maybe I was the one who was responding inappropriately to Precious. Maybe this audience, which was 70% African American, was laughing, not at the tragedy of Precious’ life, but at the audacity of Hollywood and its attempts, once again, to make African American life into a horror show.  Armond White, whose scathing review has been quoted all over the internet, writes that:

Precious raises ghosts of ethnic fear and exoticism just like Birth of a Nation. Precious and her mother (Mo’Nique) share a Harlem hovel so stereotypical it could be a Klansman’s fantasy. It also suggests an outsider’s romantic view of the political wretchedness and despair associated with the blues. Critics willingly infer there’s black life essence in Precious’ anti-life tale. And the same high-dudgeon tsk-tsking of Hurricane Katrina commentators is also apparent in the movie’s praise. Pundits who bemoan the awful conditions that have not improved for America’s unfortunate are reminded that they are still on top.

While I think White engages in a bit of a hyperbole in his review (Little Man [2006, Keenan Ivory Wayans] is a better film? Really?), he does make a good point: does Precious merely assuage liberal guilt over the persistance of the profound  class and racial divides in this country by allowing the haves to weep over the fates of the have-nots? Perhaps the laughter of those around me was a way of rejecting or resisting this Hollywood offering, of refusing to cry over images that are calculated to make us do just that?

So to sum up this contradictory post: my experience of Precious left me feeling confused (and even ashamed) about my relationship with the film image and about the role that film can and should play in the depiction of social problems. Can a film about a suffering individual ever avoid being conflated with an entire social group? Can these films ever not be poverty porn? What is the value in putting these images on the big screen?

I would love to hear your thoughts about this film and your experiences watching it the theaters.

Quinton Aaron as Michael Oher; Gabourey Sidibe as Precious Jones. Images from allmoviephoto.com.

Yesterday, I saw both “Precious” and “The Blind Side”, the former based on the novel Push by Sapphire, the latter on the book The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game by Michael Lewis. While I could spend days attempting to dissect the pyschological, sociological, and socioeconomical aspects of both of these powerful films, I just want to touch upon a few impressions that have lingered:

1. Above all else, these were stories about 2 children. They may have been 300+ pounds and their harsh *childhoods* may have aged them prematurely, but they were nonetheless children. That so many adults in their families and in society failed them is astounding to me, especially when you consider that there are many more impoverished children in America just like protagonists Precious Jones and Michael Oher.
2. Though both these children were very large in stature and thus were in society’s collective “face”, they truly lived in the shadows, virtually ignored by all around them. We see what we want to see, no matter what horrors are right in front of us.
3. In both cases, were it not for the help of 1 or 2 incredibly key people early on, these children would not have survived to tell their tales. In the case of Precious, it was the principal who went out of her way to enroll the teen in an alternative school; for Oher, it was neighborhood man “Big Tony” who—in trying to get his own son into a private school—took Michael too, knowing that attending private school on an athletic scholarship would be both kids’ best chance at a quality education. You just never know what kindness you offer today might change someone’s life tomorrow.
4. Of course, I have to touch on the race issue. I have read many articles about both movies and have chuckled at many of the reader comments I’ve seen. Overall, the black community doesn’t look too good in either movie as a whole. But you have to realize that these portrayals are small slices of the larger black pie, and that both of these books-turned-movies were based on true stories. Had the Hollywood machine created these movies as works of fiction, then OK, as a black person, I might have cried foul. But reality is what reality is, and often it is ugly. Particularly in “The Blind Side”, it would be easy to write the movie off as ‘white family rescues black teen from the hood’, but you can just as easily view the movie the way I did: a caring family saw a CHILD alone on the streets at night and offered him shelter. The rest as they say, is history.
5. Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my good friend Joni—creator of the blog ‘Politics from the Eyes of an Ebony Mom’—for getting me to see “Precious” at all. I’ve had a pretty tough life emotionally myself, and I wasn’t going to touch this movie with a 10-foot pole. As I always say, “I don’t need help getting depressed.” Because I’m a Ravens fan, I knew I’d see “The Blind Side” eventually (Oher was drafted by the team this year), but I had no intention of seeing “Precious”. But Joni’s review heightened my curiosity so much so that I was compelled to see this great film.

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (2009)
★★★★ / ★★★★

I find it an uncommon experience to watch a movie that really gets involved with my emotions, but it’s rare that I watch a movie that has the ability to completely transport me in its reality. Directed by Lee Daniels, “Precious” tells the story of an pregnant, obese, illiterate African-American teenager (Gabourey “Gabby” Sidibe) who has grown accustomed to the physical and emotional abuse inflicted by her mother (Mo’Nique) and how she eventually found strength inside of her to stand up and take her life in a positive direction. A few people who genuinely took interest in Precious were Paula Patton as the school teacher, Mariah Carey as one of the people who works for the welfare system, and Lenny Kravitz as a male nurse who took care of her after she had her second baby.

I have to admit that I choose to ignore or even actively stay away from people like Precious, partly due to fear since she came from a terrible neighborhood and partly due to how she presented herself: very quiet yet volatile and someone that seemed like she had no interest in taking care of herself. That stereotype that I often rely on doesn’t come consciously to me anymore and it was nice, through watching this film, to be reminded that despite physical appearances, everyone has a surprising (and even touching) story to tell, a story that transcends all the stigma and the pain that a person shows and hides. Even though the subject matter of this film was depressing, it found enough moments to insert not just amusing lines and moments but actual hopes and dreams of the lead character’s. Such scenes illustrated that although Precious didn’t like herself (when she looks in the mirror, she sees a completely different person–Caucasian, skinny, happy), she wanted to break out from her violent living environment and ultimately be loved for who she is and what she has to offer.

I thought the scenes of physical abuse from her father were done in a sensitive and insightful way. Instead of actually showing us the act, I admired how the picture chose to dissociate itself from the scene as when Precious would dissociate herself from the experience and think shiny, happy thoughts. From what I learned in Psychology, rape victims, especially those people who were raped ever since they were children, dissociate their minds from their bodies as a defense mechanism. So I thought the film’s craft was spot-on. Mo’Nique’s character was beyond cruel but just when I thought she was a complete monster, the movie shows us that she does indeed have a heart. It’s just that she became angry and bitter over the years because of how she interpreted certain events and how she saw certain realities. Again, I saw this through a psychological lens so her reaction made sense to me even though I do not agree with the way transfered all her frustration and anger (that should have been directed to her husband and herself) to her only daughter. Mo’Nique has been getting a lot of strong Oscar buzz for Best Actress and I believe she should be nominated because out of the many movies I’ve seen in 2009, her performance stands out by a mile.

The reason why I consider “Precious” one of the strongest movies of 2009 is because, despite its gloomy premise, it’s ultimately a very inspiring story about a seemingly hopeless girl from Harlem who chose to break the chains of abuse and find an alternative path so that she could grow as a person and maybe even reach her potential. This is a great film to show to kids from the poorer neighborhoods because it might give them enough courage to speak out and discover a role model that they might not have in their respective homes. It’s been a while since I saw people actually crying in the movies and people talking about it right when we were walking out of the theaters. Even though I saw this film alone (For some reason, I almost always watch the best films of the year by myself), I felt connected with the world and wanting to embrace everyone in it.

precious

Today, I went to see precious.  The movie is based on the novel Push by Sapphire.  I was told before I went to the movie that it was “heavy”.  I had seen the previews and it looked like an amazing movie, from the previews alone the acting was great!  I went at 10:15 this am, by myself.  I was nervous to start my day out with such a dark movie but that was the time the kid’s grandmother would babysit so off I went!

After seeing the movie I can understand why some of my friends were concerned about me seeing it by myself.  I cried, I laughed, I was confused, and most of all I missed my happy ending.  How was I to deal with what I just saw?  Granted it is not based on a true story but that doesn’t mean it’s not someone’s true story.  Even if all of the events did not happen to one person, several of the events have happen to several people.  That I do know as fact.

In my alternate universe the sun is shining all the time, everything is bright and yellow and everyone is happy.  The streets are filled with people singing and there is no bad news.  Should anyone try to share any the loud-speaker in my alternate universe plays “Don’t nobody bring no bad news” from the movie The Wiz.  Precious brought me out of  my alternate universe and sat me down in a dark, evil, place.  I could see that there was sunshine there but the dark was to overpowering.  What was I to do with what I had just seen?

The first thing I did was thank God for my space, my time, and my circumstance.  I thanked God for my family and friends, for the love I’m able to receive and give.  I thanked God for my beautiful,beautiful, perfect baby.  I thanked God for his father and him putting us together. What was I to do with what I just saw?  I was to thank God.

Even if you don’t know anyone who has been in any of these situations this movie was made to make us aware that they exist.  That there are people out there who live in a dark, dark universe against their will.  What was I to do with what I just saw?  I’m to shine as bright as possible so that when I meet someone who lives in that dark universe, they are taken back by my light.  I need to shine so bright that I can give them  hope, courage, and strength to fight through another day.  Sometimes when walking in the dark all you need to keep going is a glimmer of light.  A reason to keep going forward.   I need to shine brighter than before.  That is what I can do with what I’ve just seen.

Thank you Oprah, Tyler Perry, Mo’nique, Gabourey Sidibe, Paula Patton, Mariah Carey, Sapphire and Lee Daniels.  Thank you, for making me shine brighter.

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The cast of "Nine"; image courtesy of newsinfilm.com

I saw Precious today and want to talk about it length, but need to process what I saw. I’d also like to get to Push, Sapphire’s book on which the movie was based at some point before the end of the year. For now, I’ll say this. I didn’t love it but I did like it, thought Gabourey Sidibe and Mo’Nique were great, was heartened that my matinee screening had a good and diverse turnout, and think you should see it. But you may want to see it with someone and encourage your local theater to have a safe space where people can go if the movie becomes too intense or touches on frought emotions or horrible memories.

For the time being, I thought I’d mention the preview of a coming attraction. Nine, Rob Marshall’s screen adaptation of Arthur Kopit, Mario Fratti, and Maury Yeston’s musical (itself an adaptation of Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2), comes out next week. You can view the trailer here.

So, I know very little about this musical. I only recently discovered the origins of its source material, which I haven’t seen (though, based on my less-than-enthusiastic viewings of La Dolce Vita and I Vitelloni don’t hold high hopes for it, unless Fellini allowed for self-deprication in his autobiographical film the way that Bob Fosse did in All That Jazz, a movie of a similar mold that I love). Beyond that, I knew Raul Julia starred in its Broadway debut back in 1982, the original production won many Tonys, and once heard someone sing “Unusual Way” at a family friend’s wedding, which is a really cryptic song choice for such a ceremony.

As for the film adaptation, I know the players. Rob Marshall directed Chicago and is at the helm here. Daniel Day Lewis plays Guido Contini, a tortured director. The women who populate his life are considerable — Marion Cotillard plays his wife, Penélope Cruz his mistress, Nicole Kidman his muse, Stacey Ferguson (aka Duchess Fergie Ferg) a whore he once knew, and Kate Hudson a fashion writer whose character has a song that was written for the movie. Oh, and Judi Dench is Contini’s costume designer and confidant.

So, I totally suspect a two-hour version of Julio Iglesias’s “To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before” with generous dashes of love for the authorial presence of male film directors. Also, I think this trailer gives you virtually no insight into what this story is about.

That said, I totally want to see this movie because:

1) I’m always interested in film musicals, whether they are good, bad, screen adaptations of stage musicals, or screen adaptations of stage musicals of feature films. Yes, this means I saw Hairspray and didn’t hate it as much as many of my movie geek friends did. But those matters should be saved for another post. 

2) Unlike many people who hated Chicago (several of whom I suspect feel Marty or Roman got robbed out of a Best Picture Oscar for Gangs of New York or The Pianist), I actually enjoyed it. I felt the adaptation stayed true to the source material, deftly staged sequences that are actually going on in the protagonist’s mind, and felt like Catherine Zeta Jones, Queen Latifah, and John C. Reilly were great. I even enjoyed Renée Zellweger and Richard Gere, actors whom I otherwise would rather not watch in a movie. My only real complaint (which Jon Stewart shares), was that Bebe Neuwirth, who won a Tony for her portrayal of Velma Kelly was replaced by Zeta Jones. Otherwise, bring it.

3) Daniel Day Lewis can sing? The same guy who apparently prepared for There Will Be Blood by recording his character’s voice using early 20th century phonographic technology? I am there.

d) I’m fascinated by the presence of female pop stars in contemporary film musicals. As the golden age of film musicals has long since passed, it seems like the ones that do make it to the screen need a familiar face and voice, and they are almost always women with celebrated recording careers. Just as I wondered what Madonna brought to Evita, Queen Latifah brought to Chicago, and Beyoncé and Jennifer Hudson brought to Dreamgirls, so too am I curious what Fergie is going to bring to Nine. While detractors might snigger that it’s fitting for the woman who sang “My Humps” and “London Bridge” to play a whore, I’ll counter that she’s the only singer we hear in the trailer. Yes, that’s her singing “Be Italian.”

e) In the movie, I’m interested in seeing a whore play a teacher to our genius director protagonist man. In real life, I advocate the decriminalization of prostitution and would like sex workers to get worker rights and benefits.

f) While I worry that these women are going to be portrayed as long-suffering, one-dimensional objects of Condini’s affection, I want to see a movie that boasts so many actresses. I haven’t seen this many women in an ensemble since I saw Cruz in Pedro Almodóvar’s Volver (note: Cruz is also starring in Almodóvar’s Broken Embraces and I can’t wait for it to start playing in Austin). 

As an aside, the gossip enthusiast in me is also curious about Cruz and Kidman starring in a movie together. Ever since Tom Cruise split with Nicole Kidman and dated Cruz, I always wonder what their interactions are like every time they show up on a magazine cover together. It’s a catty curiosity, but a curiosity nonetheless. I wonder how they would be portrayed in a movie about Tom Cruise’s life, but want very much for this movie not to be made.

Vogue cover girls Nicole Kidman, Marion Cotillard, Penélope Cruz, and Kate Hudson; image courtesy of latimesblogs.latimes.com

Nicole Kidman and Penélope Cruz bookending Vanity Fair's 2001 Hollywood Issue cover; image courtesy of abc.net.au

Whether this movie is good or not remains to be seen. That said, I’ll see you at the multiplex.

Deep Blue Sea Turtle Earrings

Sapphire blue swarovski bicones gently swing from iridescent blue-iris czech glass turtles. Suspended from sterling silver kidney earwires, these earrings measure approximately 1.75″ (5 cm) long.

100% of the sale proceeds will be donated to Etsy for Charity (EFC) Charity of the Month.

Precious: Based on the Novel By Sapphire (2009)
109 minutes
Rated – R
Directed by Lee Daniels
Starring: Gabourey Sidibe, Mo’Nique, Paula Patton, Mariah Carey

Grade:  A-

–

Packed with a number of outstanding acting performances from the most unlikeliest candidates, Precious is a dark and raw film that surprisingly has an uplifting moral to tell.

Taken place in Harlem 1987, the protagonist, Precious Jones, is played by Gabourey Sidibe who is extremely riveting in her acting debut.  She is an overweight African American who lives in a world of poverty and abuse.  At 16-years-young she’s been raped by her father, had a child with down syndrome, lives off of welfare, is physically and emotionally abused by her mom, and is pregnant with her second child.  Nothing is going right with Precious until two women take the spotlight in her world and impacts her.

First and most importantly is her alternative schooling teacher, Miss Rain (Patton).  With a passion for teaching and a strong will to get through to her students, Rain goes the distance getting to know Precious and offers her kindness and love that has been barren to her throughout her life.  Inside that small classroom, Precious finally feels important and can have her voice be heard by the rest of the students.

But when she’s not at school she’s stuck at home with her abusive mother, Mary (played spectacularly by stand-up comedian Mo’Nique).  If there is a more complex character than Precious in this movie, it’s Mary.  With glimpses of tenderness and motherly love, she is corrupted by selfishness and a cheating husband.  But instead of being mad at him, she’s upset at Precious for stealing her man and takes it out on her in the cruelest ways.

Precious is forced to talk about her problems at home with social worker Ms. Weiss (Mariah Carey) in order to apply for her welfare checks.  Opening up to her unloads a great weight that has been on Precious for quite some time.  In the stunning and emotional conclusion between Precious, Mary, and Ms. Weiss, a lot is revealed that is as shocking as it will tug at your heart.

With such serious material coming from the best-selling novel by Sapphire, Lee Daniels (Monster’s Ball) is able to do a hell of a job balancing out the movie, giving it a intriguing look at the life of Precious.  He never over-steps any of the social issues, but he doesn’t play it safe either.  Here is a well-paced, engaging story that has you emotionally invested in the characters… not an easy accomplishment.

Onto the performances, Sidibe’s Precious is stellar.  You just know she has a lot to say, but internalizes most of it.  She’s talented and is smart, but when you’re told otherwise for your whole life it’s impossible to not believe it.  Sidibe is able to capture this type of torment and peril in Precious.

And then there’s Mo’Nique’s performance that a lot of critics are already saying is “Oscar worthy.”  While I cannot disagree, giving her that title is probably a bit pre-mature.  She portrayed Precious’ mother with a relentless assault while emotionally giving the audience an understanding for her actions, something I didn’t think was possible.  The role she played is difficult but was powerfully rewarding at the end.

Overall, Precious isn’t an easy film to watch but is one of the better films I’ve seen this year.  It tackled social issues right at the source and told such an important story in a way for the public to relate to and understand.  A film like this doesn’t come around too often.  Do yourself a favor and see it.

The setting was superb. Nothing would spoil the wedding breakfast.

One of the rules of NaNo is that one writes and DOES NOT EDIT until the required minimum wordcount of 50,000 words (or end of novel, if that adds up to more) is reached. But for your sake, dear Reader, I have edited a little. Corrected spelling and typos. Otherwise it is open to revision and redoing in December

This, therefore, for good or for ill, is an excerpt from my work-in-progress: or NaNo WIP.
I hope you enjoy. It’s a miracle to witness the continuing flow, I can tell you.

All had been made ready for the guests. The bride waited at the head of the stairs

Horses and carriages stood at the gates, a long line of opulence and conspicuous wealth, each waiting its turn to process down the shady lime avenue which heralded the last mile of approach to the house.

Not a family in Aberdeenshire had been ignored. Invitations sent in January by messenger, hand delivered to Clubs and castles throughout the shire ensured that the assembled gathering would be the greatest affair in the social calendar for a generation. John Ramsay Irvine was going to make sure his daughter’s marriage was witnessed by them all. Grooms and stablehands were lined up at the curved façade to help ladies down awkward steps as consorts and cousins and brothers assisted with the finery, petticoats and layers of taffeta and veils billowing in the slight breeze.

The day was glorious: mid June brilliance with a scent of abundance in the air.

A phalanx of footmen ushered ladies into the house to powder noses, while gentlemen were escorted to the gigantic marquée set on the lawn, hands charged with a glass of champagne immediately they stepped under the awning. Butlers and footmen manfully shouldered silver trays groaning under the weight of crystal brimming with bubbles. Chatter was loud but festive. The ladies would join them in a moment. For now the tent was dominated by menfolk catching up with colleagues, discussing the week’s affairs, arrangements for the shooting season in late summer, and whose house-party already had its quota of family and summertime guests.

When the first of the ladies emerged from downstairs boudoirs and stepped into the light of the terrace, a hush descended on the crowd. Every one of them, matron, maid, young miss was adorned in finery, as if they individually were to be the bride: tiaras appeared glinting in the sun: getting a summer airing from safes and velvet boxes they’d nestled in since Christmas or for parties at Hogmanay. Pearls and rubies shone and sapphire necklaces extracted from bank vaults for this special occasion reflected blue light from the lake.

Brother Hugh stood alone, apart from the jostling crowd, waiting for a signal from his mother’s window that Catherine would soon be ready to take his arm; for him to proceed with her to the little chapel across the lawn to the glade of trees down by the lake. But carriages were still appearing, stopping at the great entrance to unload more adorned maidens with doting brothers or fiancés, and trundling slowly off to the Home Farm where grooms and drivers would wait to be summoned again after it was all over. A long procession still stretched down the lime avenue as far as Hugh could see. There was no rush yet to summon Catherine and her maids.

In the upstairs chamber with its four-poster usually reserved for her mother, Catherine stood radiant. She was to wear Great-grandfather’s South Seas pearls and the ruby necklace brought with him from Russia when he was a successful merchant plying Baltic waters to Danzig. It was now family tradition that these, the first glittering evidence of John Ramsay’s fortune, should be worn by every bride since 1758, the year that the adventurer purchased the Straloch estate from the famous cartographer, Robert Gordon of Straloch. It had been Ramsay’s fortune which built the grand mansion in its grounds.

Today Catherine felt like a swan gazing in her mother’s long dress-mirror at the sparkling jewels round her white neck. There was something about these new continental gowns, the low ‘empire’ line made fashionable by the ladies of Napoleon’s court . The British may have defeated the dictator, but his ladies’ fashion sense lingered on. The high bosom and low neckline made her feel dizzy in the shafts of sunlight glancing through the gauze curtains. It danced and shifted, casting a pool of light at her feet. She allowed herself to peer over her sudden perky breasts at the pompom slippers of maroon silk which peeped out below the vanilla silk hem of her gown. Mother was right. This new line may be a little too daring for such a backwater as Aberdeenshire, but it was just the most beautiful creation she had ever seen and she was standing in it, allowing its long pointed sleeves to hug her delicate wrists, the tight waistband to nip her small frame even more closely than she ever would have dared at a normal party.

‘Everything is allowed for a wedding, my dear. Even daring narrow waists and low necklines.’ If her mother’s voice had a hint of disapproval, it was covered by laughter. Tones tinkled in pride at the sight of her daughter’s surprise.

“We may be of merchant stock, but Grandfather knew a jewel or two. And I must say they do add a je ne sais quoi to your already fabulous beauty.’ Her mother laughed again. ‘I may not be the one to say, but it does run in the family.’

She reached out her own silk-gloved hand to caress the folds at the rear of her daughter’s gown, smoothing an imaginary crease.

Bridesmaids in the ante room behind the pillar giggled and, seeing Catherine’s mother smile and beckon, fell into the room in a huddle of lace and satin and pink pumps.

‘Careful, girls. We don’t want any accidents.’

All four glanced at each other and then at their hostess and giggled again.

‘I wish it were all over. No, of course I don’t but Hugh said he’d start the procession at least by two. It must be close to three.’ Catherine’s small face crinkled in a fleeting frown, scanning her mother’s profile. One of the house maids popped her head round the door.

‘Carriages still coming, m’lady,’ she said, bobbing a hasty curtsey. ‘Master Hugh says another glass of champagne should settle the gentlemen. He wants to know if you would like some up here.’

‘Most certainly not. Thank you, Rose. Tell the Master we shall wait for his signal.’ The maid’s head disappeared again.

‘I can see the end of the carriages.’ A tiny gloved hand holding its regulation posy of roses dropped the long curtain at the window and one of the Burnett girls burst into a fit of giggles. Another grabbed the curtain and then she too dropped it with a guilty look. She turned to the other bridesmaids and whispered
‘It’ll be the bridegroom in the very last carriage.’

‘I heard that.’

Catherine was nervous as a kitten. The last thing she wanted to know was news that that her darling, handsome husband-to-be was the last to arrive. She swept the thought aside. Henry was like her brother Hugh: so strong and brave. Such a pity Father was no longer well enough to sit up, far less be wheeled to the ceremony. But until she became Henry’s, Hugh would be her rock. He would more than make up for her father’s infirmity.

Hugh had turned out like his grandfather: he’d continued the work begun by Great-grandfather in the 244 acre estate after he built the palladian mansion, just as father and grandfather had done. Nowadays there was talk in Society of how rash a move it had been, in the time of King George III, to pull down a 13th century building and put up a Georgian palace. But Great-grandfather was an innovator. He knew all the tricks and turns used by wealthy European royalty in his day and his palace was built to the scale and proportions of the great Italian architect, Palladio, whose style thereafter became the fashion.

Straloch had been revolutionary for its time. Now in the early 19th century, It was considered ‘all the rage.’ For a wedding ceremony and breakfast attended by all the County’s best families, its size and style were totally inkeeping. It had precisely the required number of public rooms, a grand ballroom, drawing room, morning room and a dining salon that none could rival. It had outlived its ‘foreignness’ and become a style which other families copied. Burnetts and Forbeses and Irvines all had since pulled down ancient towers and put up a palladian edifice in its place: at Colpy and Keig and Pittodrie, palaces were erected where cramped medieval towers had been. The Ramsay fashion had become the norm. And in Aberdeenshire, a county renowned for its conservatism, that was saying something.

Hugh was more like father in the way he cared for and tended the trees of the avenue, the stately park specimens getting most of his love and attention. And he had recently started a programme of planting the new fashion in trees: beech.

If you listened to Hugh on the endless variety of beeches one could plant… he could bore anyone to tears. It was enough to make her yawn just to think of it. Some day, of course all this would be Hugh’s. Catherine was just fortunate to be able to have such a beautiful backdrop for her Big Day. And as for father’s being an invalid and not really able to know what was going on, was something one just had to be philosophical about. He seemed more himself when she’d spoken to him this morning, wanting to share with him the excitement to come, the huge numbers who would attend. He looked at her through watery eyes, propped himself up on one elbow from the cushions on his daybed and whispered:

‘Be still in the candlelight, Darling.’

She had not the faintest idea what he meant, but she nodded her head and kissed him on the forehead.

Suddenly Annie Farquharson jumped up and down at the window, her pink slippers doing ballet turns.

‘It’s Hugh. He’s signalling to be ready. He’s pulling out his fob watch and pointing. I think he means it’s time.’

‘All right, all right, girls. No need to lose our heads. Now, we all remember the order. When Hugh comes to the door, you four go first. Ahead of him. Follow Catherine’s cousin Jamie to the head of the stairs and wait. Do you hear me? Wait until I get there.’

There came a chorus of ‘yes’.

‘He’s coming. He’s coming,’ Annie bobbed up and down more frantic than ever.

‘All right, Annie. Now into your special order, please girls. We do this as we practiced it. All right?’

Catherine felt remarkably calm. If Hugh was ready, it meant her dear beautiful wonderful sweet loving kind fiancé Henry was already down in the woodland glade by the lake; at this very moment entering the little chapel and waiting for her. The thought made her faint with pleasure. Annie’s sister June had the presence-of-mind to prop her up. She tut-tutted her support.

There was a knock at the door and Hugh was ushered in by a dressing maid. He whispered something in Mother’s ear and looked over at his sister:

‘Ready my sweet princess? I’ve never seen you more glorious than today. Really. And I’m not being brotherly. I really mean it. You could not look more perfect. I think you are right about these new styles. It’s going to be the wedding of the century.

That’s pretty bold, she thought. This is only 1822. Surely newer fashions will one day make all this seem out of date and from a different world. Again, she brushed the unruly thought aside like a wisp of stray hair in her eye, took a step towards him and grasped his outstretched hand.

‘Thank you my darling Hugh. I would not be able to do this without you.’
He smiled and led her to the door.

Each waited her turn to descend the Great Staircase

On cue, the piper at the front door thrummed up his bagpipes and began a low drone. Catherine could see outside sunlit faces turn from the awning towards the front door.

It was beginning.

She held Hugh’s arm in a tight grasp.

‘You’ll be wonderful,’ he whispered.

She smiled up at him, wishing she could say something in return, but her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed instead.

Six pages rushed past carrying golden candelabra from the drawing room to stand in two rows down the great staircase. As one of them came abreast of her and Hugh, he tripped and looked at her wildly as if to apologize for his clumsy nervousness. His companion bent over to help him fix one of the candles which was beginning to work itself loose from its holder, its flame still alight, but shaking. As one page righted himself, the other’s grasp on his own candlestick slipped.

Catherine and Hugh could only stand and watch. In slow motion, the triple glow of golden light wrapped in cherubs and foiled bacchanalian wreaths, began a downward curve towards the staircase. Hugh grabbed his sister tightly, starting to swing her torso out of the way of the falling light. For a moment all Catherine saw was light: a small flame, so tiny it could do no harm, its glow wanting so much to add to the perfection of her day. Its fall was broken by the solid mahogany ball-and-claw knob of the bannister at the head of the stairs. Instead of cascading flame-first down the stairwell into the abyss below stairs, the dislodged candle bounced back and – oh so excruciatingly slowly – turned its menacing beam on Catherine.

Bridesmaids leapt to left and right, each trying to avoid what must happen: the staircase was in disarray. Other candles started to shake and falter.

‘Hold your lights, there’. It was Hugh’s voice, so close to her ear, but it sounded a million miles away.

Her eyes were glued to the falling candle. Why was it taking so long? It should have landed by now. By now she should be able to jump sideways and out of harm’s way. But Hugh’s arm held her tight. She was immobilized. All she could do was watch, frozen in time as the dislodged candle made a soft thump – such a simple sound – and hit the top of the staircase. Candle wax spilled in all directions, some of it sparking with a flame. One tiny spark of wax fell on the hem of her gown and she stared – her eyes wide now, her mouth open in a silent scream of terror – as flames engulfed her vanilla silk underskirts.

One of the butlers held a tray. He stood crouching back by the open door of the room they had left a moment ago. Hugh let go her arm, made a couple of strides across the landing and grabbed two champagne glasses, throwing the contents at her. He missed and the liquid splashed her arm.

‘Bring me a carafe,’ he ordered, his voice sounding more like a general in Napoleon’s army than her own gentle brother.

He grabbed another two glasses and threw. This time they hit their mark, but in the few seconds’ delay, the fire had caught hold. It was burning her silk stockings. She felt heat sear her legs. It seemed to penetrate right through to the bone. Her tears couldn’t help her. Her brother’s champagne rescue was doing a little but not enough. The candle, so small and innocent a flame, was doing its worst.

Fire raged up the front of her skirt, smoke engulfing her face, her neck, the pearl and ruby necklace. A page stumbled towards Hugh carrying a bedroom ewer, its enormous weight of water slowing him down. Hugh grabbed the jug and poured its contents down her uncomplaining front. His left hand held her steady, in case she fell from the sudden mass of water. Nobody spoke. The other pages stood motionless, still in position lining the staircase. Of four bridesmaids, two were crying and two were holding gloved hands in anguish over their open mouths. Mother had stopped rigid in her tracks halfway down the staircase. She and the pages created a flimsy barrier between Catherine and the jostling crowd of onlookers beginning to push into the main entrance hall.

All could see now: she was the centre of attention: this tragic apparition, her faultless coiffure still crowning a face ravaged by tears, sleeves and gloved hands soaking wet but intact.

Rubies glittered as if they knew red was not only a colour but a flame.

And below the waist – nothing – it was all gone. She was naked except for two charred shivering legs, a vestige of maroon slippers looking like something from the Black Death. She collapsed to the floor just as Annie rushed to cover her nakedness with her vanilla stole. The last thing she heard was her mother’s voice:

‘Give her some air. Let her breathe.’

But it was father’s words which she heard in her mind:

‘Be still in the candlelight, Darling. Be still.’

Precious

Precious is a adaptation of the book Push by author Sapphire (born Ramona Lofton). The movie is really graphic and explicit, but living in America this is what many are born into.

The Story of Precious touched my heart from beginning to end. The writers and actors of this movie played very believable roles. I am a person who tends to stop thinking that dreams have meaning. That peoples ideas don’t always come across the way we want them too. I lean towards the ideology of knowing or just living out all my visions. But I want to make sure its known to others in this lifetime that no matter what you think you can achieve that thing.

This movie Precious touched every part of my soul and is a refreshing look at the world that allot of my African people in the hell conditions of America have been forced into. Its so sad to know that people are born trained to be savage. Looking at america and the euro centric views its no wonder we as Africans Stuck in America are so far at the bottom of things.
Please know Indigenous Afro Kemetic Gods and Goddesses people that we are living in an inverted reality and this is only for a time being, continue to dream and know that you will persevere through this wicked mans way of life. A way of life that teaches raping, stealing, cheating, killing and all other forms of evil that you can imagine.

You are greater and you shall proceed through all of this, because thats who you are and who YOU COME FROM GREATNESS.

Respect to Actors: Gabourey Sidibe, Mo’Nique, Mariah Carey, Paula M. Patton, Chyna Layne, and Lenny Kravitz.

As what I mentioned before, I received a new PC building project, code name “Project DR”. This is the list of confirmed parts.

• 
  Intel Core2Duo E7600 3.06GHz 1066MHz (3MB L2)
• 
  Gigabyte GA-EP45-UD3R
• 
  Kingston 2GB DDR2 800MHz x2
• 
  Western Digital Caviar Blue 500GB
• 
  Sapphire ATI Radeon HD5770 1GB GDDR5 128bit
• 
  LG GH24NS50 DVDRW Sata24x
• 
  Cooler Master Centurion5 + CM Extreme Power 500W
• 
  Acer H233H GBmid monitor
• 
  Creative Inspire T6100 5.1channel Speaker
• 
  Logitech Cordless Desktop Wave
• 
  Microsoft Windows 7 Home Premium

More updates coming soon.

So I guess this is the start of my 2009 prestige season review run, which I am titling “Prestige-a-Rama.” I know, what an awesome title right? And what better movie to start with than surefire Oscar contender, Precious. Adapted from Sapphire’s novel, Push (the title changed due to the already forgotten action movie Push from earlier this year), this movie first got attention winning the Sundance Grand Jury Award. Picked up for distribution and backed by the marketing efforts of Tyler Perry and Oprah Winfrey, it’s now reaching an audience much bigger than anyone ever could imagined, and rightfully so.

I should say upfront that I discussed this movie with a few people, expressing the fact that I didn’t really want to see this movie. And yet, I felt like I had to see it myself to understand fully why this movie existed, and in what way it chose to use the stark, pathos-ridden darkness contained in this movie that many people seemed to be accepting, even welcoming as emotional meaningfulness on first glance. The movie introduces us to Precious, a 16 year old girl, pregnant with her second child after being raped by her father, living in poverty with one child already suffering from Down Syndrome, trapped under the iron fist of her horrible mother. We follow her as she begins attending an alternative school after being expelled from her regular high school, and continues as she gives birth to her second child. There’s no question that there’s little, if any joy, or even hope in the confines of this movie. But having seen the movie, I can say that Precious is not exploitative, manipulative, or belittling, not even in the tiniest way that I feared it might be, or at least would come across to some people. It is an important, meaningful, and devastatingly affecting movie about the universal struggle of good people who are doomed to live in bad situations. Their inability to escape their circumstances, even to their dying day, hell, even if they die from them, should not make us forget that they are there, and that in them exists something worthy of our attention, even when we don’t necessarily want to seek out these stories. Because we’re scared of how it makes us feel, and what it makes us realize what we have in the lives that we sometimes bitch and whine about.

Director Lee Daniels makes an interesting choice, choosing to keep the movie set in the book’s 1987 setting, while keeping a modern sensibility to the film’s general aesthetic. Interspersed with music video-like fantasy sequences and gorgeous framed shots, Daniels manages to keep the film from ever looking like a biopic, which is to the film’s credit. Rather than seeming like the story of an underdog that we’ve seen a million times before, the movie is new, fresh, and exciting in a way that allows the audience to approach Precious’s story as if it were a document, supported by the literary flourishes and cinematic touches that give the film a look as if it was imagined; and when we realize it’s taken directly from reality, manages to jolt us into attention. The energy of the movie is balanced nicely against the recurring theme of seeing Precious dealing with conflict around hallways, through windows, around the corner, at the top of stairs. She is disconnected from her life, prone to fantasy, and avoiding the dire nature of her circumstances as her only means of survival; and only when she faces her problems and sees the abject horror that she must live through can she face it, as Daniels begins to push the camera closer, pushing her into closer quarters with others, pushing her into her own life. It’s a subtle, and gorgeous technique that works, as simplistic as it might seem.

And what else is there even to say about Gabby Sidibe? About Mo’Nique? They are absolutely astounding. I wish I could adequately write words to describe what it’s like seeing Sidibe play this role, a role that no actress could ever imagine they would have to play, much less pull off so effectively. And how impressive it is that Sidibe pulls it off, as a newcomer at that. Meanwhile, Mo’Nique is the personification of evil; someone who you can’t imagine existing, yet you know does in this world. To see these two actresses face off in the pivotal scenes, you don’t see a new actress and a former comedienne. You see two people stuck in this situation, and their naturalistic acting jobs are so effective, that it’s a good thing Daniels has the style to make this film seem less than a one-to-one document of reality. Without Daniels there to turn this into a film, Precious would be almost too much to take.

There’s not much I could say about this movie to further laud it in the eyes of those who already want to see it. And there’s nothing much I could say to convince people who don’t want to see this kind of movie that would change their minds to see it. It’s a devastating movie that stays with you, it’s difficult to watch at times, and in the end will not leave you with answers, with any leads to those answers, with even any hope that things will change in the big picture. It’s not beautiful or lovely in the way that other movies that involve the horror of life are. But it is a tremendous, astounding movie that does not belittle the subject, or the audience in any way. It is so fiercely what it is, that I’m hard pressed to say that you’ll see a better movie about the human experience this year, and maybe for many, many years to come.