Girl Detective

I feel as if I’m caught in a reading zeitgeist, with many online articles touching on similar themes.

At The American Scholar, William Deresiewicz details what he sees as “The Disadvantages of an Elite Education“:

[I]t makes you incapable of talking to people who aren’t like you …[and] inculcates a false sense of self-worth.

An education from an elite US university, like Yale, will reinforce the class system, and prepare students for the security of an upper-class job, not introspection and independent thought.

In “The New Learning That Failed” at The Criterion (link from Arts & Letters Daily), Victor David Hanson argues that modern universities have lost two important lessons from a classic, Western education: the value of self-criticism and introspection, and theories of exploitation based in the real world. The result, according to Hanson, is pedagogy focused on what to think, not how to think.

Hanson also notes the loss of three things that used to distinguish between what once was studied in a traditional liberal arts education, and pop culture:

an appreciation that a few seminal works of art and literature had weathered fad and cant and, by general agreement, due to their aesthetics or insight, or both, spoke universally to the human condition.

[an] old assumption that professors, through long training, were necessary to guide students through such classic texts [like] Dante’s Inferno

an appreciation of a manner of formal thought and beauty that separated some high art and literature from more popular and accessible counterparts.

Historian David McCullough echoed this idea of established classics in a recent commencement speech, “The Love of Learning” (link from Mental Multivitamin):

Read for pleasure, to be sure… But take seriously–read closely–books that have stood the test of time. Study a masterpiece, take it apart, study its architecture, its vocabulary, its intent. Underline, make notes in the margins, and after a few years, go back and read it again.

At The Times, Rod Liddle writes about books that don’t survive their age (link from Bookslut):

[T]hey seem to be books that fitted in far too comfortably with the sensibilities of a certain chattering-class elite when they were published. Remove a work of fiction from the milieu in which it was written and you remove some of its purpose and point, of course; however, with Hesse, Powell and Fowles, as with Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, you seem to lose all the purpose and point. Everything simply evaporates.

Liddle’s, though a rant, is similar in subject to Jonathan Yardley at the Washington Post on Cannery Row and other Steinbeck works (link from Arts & Letters Daily):

Not many books of our youth survive unscathed into what passes for our maturity, and many other books await that maturity before we are ready to appreciate and understand them.

For more on Steinbeck’s books as classics, see “The Rescuing of Steinbeck” at The New York Review of Books. (link from Arts & Letters Daily)

All of the preceding articles provide an interesting context for Entertainment Weekly’s lists of new classics–the top 100 since 1983 in books, movies, tv, music, and more. In the blogosphere, at least, EW’s lists seems to have quickly eclipsed the AFI’s 10 top 10, released the same week. As with any list, there’s a great deal of righteous protest: This should have been higher, that lower, this one’s missing, I can’t believe that one is on there.

EW qualifies their lists up front. They’re not only based on quality, but on influence. They include recent works, because that’s what EW does–it’s a weekly magazine for entertainment, focusing on what’s new.

A few things struck me about the lists, and the commentary on it. First, I think there’s great value in a waiting period to see if a work endures. Second, lists are only ever a starting point for discussion. Nearly every list that’s published acknowledges this, but that gets lost in the ensuing outrage. Third, I think there was a great deal of justice done in the lists for works that were critically acclaimed but not blockbusters, or for things like comics that still aren’t considered by many to be real books. Finally, my own numbers told an interesting story: 37 books, 87 movies, 67 television shows, and 46 albums. I don’t agree with all of EW’s choices, and I think they put too much emphasis on recent works, but it affirmed why I am a fan of the magazine–I like much of what the writers like, so EW is a good index of things I might like.

As our family has muddled through SIX WEEKS of viruses, I’ve turned to the parenting tool of PBS kids tv many times. We’ve found several shows that the boys like and I either like too, or at least don’t mind.

Sesame Street: A classic. I can’t stand that elephant, and Zoe and her pet rock, Rocco, are pretty annoying, but other than that we all enjoy the show. I like seeing the celebrities and hearing Cookie monster sneaking in a big word of the day, like esoteric or lachrymose.

SuperWhy: I don’t much care for it, but 4yo Drake really loves it, and intereracts and practices his reading.

WordWorld: Both 2yo Guppy and Drake enjoy this, and really like the characters. Plus that Build-a-Word song is really catchy.

WordGirl: This vocabulary show is a bit above Drake’s head, but he likes the cartoon about the city-saving girl superhero, as do I–it reminds me of the dear, departed Tick cartoon.

Fetch with Ruff Ruffman: Again, I think some of this goes over Drake’s head, but the cartoon parts are quite funny, and the kid parts are interesting.

Have we ever watched all five shows in a day, for a whopping total of three hours of TV? Yup. We’ve all been sick, the weather’s been crap. This is yet another one of those humbling parental admissions. I’m sure at some point in the past I said superciliously, “I’d NEVER use TV as a babysitter. I’d never let my kids watch hours of TV at a time.” Well, once again, my “I Never” has come to pass, and I’ve been knocked down a peg. One of the many lessons I’ve learned in parenting: Those “I Nevers” come back to haunt me. Or rather, taunt me.

From TV guru Sepinwall, a video of one of my favorite bands that references one of my favorite television shows: Old 97’s sing “Dance with Me” while a Battlestar geek pursues Tricia Helfer.

Spoilers below, as I discuss who won and who didn’t.

I found a lot of drama in the finale. I was surprised and impressed to see Lisa show us the chef she could be–not only getting along with her sous chef, but psyched to work with a pro, doing things she’d done badly before, but doing them well, like the prawns, the soup and the dessert, and overall having a sense of calm, and finally deserved sense of self confidence. She almost won; I don’t think ANYONE saw that coming .

I cry foul that they were required to do dessert. Dessert should always be extra credit for a chef.

I felt terrible for Richard. He’s a much more talented chef than his meal showed, and I think he put too much time into being clever (e.g., the dish titles) and not enough into making just really good food. His comment that he choked impressed me with its integrity, as it did Ted Allen. He didn’t bluster, he didn’t get defensive, he spoke out honestly in a way that probably was to Stephanie’s advantage.

Stephanie won for her pork, and in spite of her dessert. But I think her meal and her win show what we’ve seen all along–she’s a calm, steady, skilled chef, who impressed quietly with small innovations like the pistachios that Ted couldn’t stop talking about, rather than with big ones like Richard’s nitrogen and smoker. That she only won the one quickfire was an index of this, too. As far as I can say without having tasted her food, she deserved the win, and I think it’s weird that so many in the blogosphere assume shenanigans behind the scenes in the judging.

So, to Stephanie: good luck and well done! I hope to visit Chicago and eat in your restaurant someday.

To Richard: you are an honorable person and a great chef. You had a bad night, but you will have many more great ones.

To Lisa: you finally showed some positive spirit and some consistent cooking. Keep moving in that direction, and good luck.

Entertainment Weekly had their Summer TV preview last week. They name A & E’s Mad Men summer TV’s number 1 hidden gem. I really enjoyed the first season. The art direction and costumes are stunning and the complex characters are all disintegrating in various and fascinating ways.

EW recommends 10 other shows to check out this summer. I second their recommendations for Breaking Bad, Reaper, Friday Night Lights, and Bones. They’re uneven, but when they’re good they’re great.

I can’t comment on their cable choices: Flight of the Conchords, In Treatment and Brotherhood. We don’t get movie channels, and given how overloaded our Tivo drive is, I think that’s a good thing.

Finally, I know that Greek, The Paper and Gossip Girl are supposed to be enjoyable, but I can’t muster the energy for them. Either I’m burned out on teen shows (fare thee well, Veronica Mars) or my roster of B shows is full; see the above recommendations.

From the Foo Fighter’s tour rider at the Smoking Gun, via ALoTT5MA. It is, not surprisingly, very funny and worth a look:

Bacon. I call it “god’s currency.” Hell, if it could be breathed, I would.
Bacon in any form is great. Not as an entree, but just in general.

Have other Top Chef viewers noted that bacon is like a secret power? Include it (well) in a dish, and you will win. And be thanked, more than once, for using bacon.

After a disappointing season 3, I’ve been enjoying season 4 of Battlestar Galactica, and dread the break that I know will come all too soon. I fantasize that I’ll rewatch all the episodes in the break, but I know myself, and my time, and my need for sleep, so I doubt it’ll happen. Lots happened on last night’s episode, but a few things stuck out for me–so spoilers for this ep below.

Tigh was the one to respond to Nicky’s crying and change his diaper. I pointed this out to my husband, G. Grod, who shrugged and said, “He’s Tigh. He’s the XO. He gets things done.” Interesting that neither Tory nor Galen responded to care for the kids.

Tigh’s visions of Ellen are similar to the ones that Baltar and Six have of each other.

I did NOT like how Tyrol looked at Nicky late in the episode; will he try to pull a Cally, even though he doesn’t know what happened? Aaron Douglas has always been one of the best actors on the show, and that’s saying a lot.

And Lee’s hair has gotten longer. It’s poofily civilian.

Top Chef season 4, episode 7: Improv. Last night’s Top Chef contestants got a night out at Second City. Strangely, no one was suspicious that there was a hidden agenda.

Spoilers from here:

Only Nikki seemed to twig quickly to the upcoming challenge, three-word non-sequiteurs dishes invented Mad Lib style by the audience. I loved Richard’s idea of cooking tofu in rendered beef fat. Was anyone else reminded of the Buffy fast-food episode? But I find Richard a bit too aware of how clever he is. I think he’d do well to remember how he caved under pressure to produce a dish for 80. He’s a talented, innovative chef, but he doesn’t work in a restaurant like most of the others. Spike, also smug, redeemed himself by producing a perfect soup; he and Andrew did not get the onscreen kudos they deserved for making a pureed squash soup with just a food mill and no processor. As for those at the bottom, I found it discouraging to see only women on the chopping block. There’s a pathetic joke to be made about the lesbian not being able to pull off a phallic presentation of “orange turned-on asparagus,” but I won’t be the one to make it. I think Antonia and Lisa deserved their dressing down–doing a fish dish garnished with chorizo and a tequila sauce for “magenta drunk polish sausage” was extremely lame. Antonia did the same thing she did on the team challenge two weeks ago–refused to open her mind to something because it wasn’t to her standards. Jen did the same thing, sneering both at the polish sausage and the beer. I do think it’s fair that the quality of the food be the standard, I don’t think Stephanie and Jen got enough kudos for being more game to the challenge than Antonia/Lisa.

My guess is that Nikki and Mark, who held the middle ground, won’t be long for this show.

More commentary at The Kitchn but none yet at ALoTT5Ma.

For Battlestar Galactica geeks (redundant?), I did a little googling of the significance of the number seven, which is the number of the last unknown Cylon model. From Religious Tolerance:

The Greek Phythagoreans believed that the number seven pointed symbolically to the union of the Deity with the universe. This association was picked up by the Christian church, especially during the Middle Ages. Seven was regarded as having sacred power, as in the seven cardinal virtues, seven deadly sins, seven sacraments, seven churches mentioned in the last book in the Bible, Revelation, etc.

More, from Wikipedia and Bible Wheel.

My guess is Baltar, not Starbuck or Adama.

A new episode of Bones aired this week, and I was glad for its return.

Did anyone else recognize the actress who played Sweets’ girlfriend April as Delia Fisher from My So Called Life, the nice girl who had a crush on Ricky? Her name is Senta Moses.

The trademark Bones banter was in the forefront, the snoozy murder in the background, and there were some excellent scenes featuring all the main characters.

There was no mention of this season’s big bad, Gormogon, but a recent blurb in EW said the identity would be revealed this season. When asked if it was Sweets, the creator laughed. I hope that meant it’s absurd, because he’s a great recurring character. Why do I think it’s not absurd? He obsessed over the file in an ep earlier this season, and as a psychologist has access to impressionable and possibly criminal young boys.

One of the things I find fascinating about AMC’s show, Mad Men, is the care they take to portray 1960, in costume, set and script.

She’s filled with petty jealousies, and overwhelmed by daily tasks. Not to worry, we see this a lot in housewives. –Betty Draper’s psychiatrist, reporting back to the husband.

Petty and overwhelmed? That describes me on more days than I’d like. At least patient/doctor confidentiality is better after fifty years.

The season finale of Mad Men is re-airing late Sunday night. It’s also on iTunes, and out on DVD July 1, 2008.

The PBS Complete Jane Austen finished Sunday with the second part of a new, 3-hour adaptation of Sense and Sensibility. Much stronger than the other new adaptations of Persuasion, Mansfield Park and Northanger Abbey, SS08 benefited from its extra 90 minutes of screen time. It was able to do justice to the story and to characters that the other, shorter adaptations simply couldn’t manage. It does, though, have the tough circumstance of comparison to both the popular book and Ang Lee’s popular 1995 film adaptation.

SS08 opens shockingly, with a steamy love scene. Outraged, I thought, “That’s not in the book; they’re sexing this up on purpose!” A few seconds later I recalled who the couple must be, and that this scene WAS part of the book, though not told in present-tense detail. Interesting, I thought, but pointless to all who have read the story, and even all who are somewhat familiar with Austen’s books, which all include an initially charming guy who turns out to be a cad; in SS it’s Willoughby. And Willoughby, in this new adaptation, is so obviously oily and up to no good that it’s a mystery why Marianne falls for him, and why no one else suspects him.

I’ll skip to what I liked first. Hattie Morahan was absolutely wonderful as Elinor. Sympathetic, believable, vulnerable, and strong. David Morrissey as Colonel Brandon was likewise quite good. He ably captured the quiet, steadfast, tormented older man who’s had his heart broken, and has no pretty illusions.

I’d forgotten why SS was my least favorite Austen novel, and in a well-drawn but painful sequence SS08 reminded me why. Marianne, while often foolish and trying, is talented and spirited. After she is dumped by Willoughby and rescued by Brandon, she slowly grows to love the latter. For all his upright nice-guy-ness, though, Brandon is nearly twenty years her senior, and he’ll have a muffling effect on her exuberance. SS08 captured this in a scene where Marianne enters his dark library, sits down at the pianoforte, wipes a hand across the top–affection, or dusting?–and proceeds to play a slow, dark tune in minor key. The interior scene is interpolated with one of her going outside to see Brandon, who has unhooded his hawk, set it “free” to fly, then called it back and snared its feet. In the book, Austen attempts to gloss over their differences by saying that they will be good for one another, but I think some of bright, dynamic Marianne will be lost forever in that safe, stable marriage. That may have been Austen’s point, but it doesn’t endear the story to me.

My other reservations about SS08 are minor, but they accumulated. The mother’s character is muddy–instead of foolish like Marianne she comes off as merely stupid. Dan Stevens as Edward Ferrars seems to be doing an impression of Hugh Grant from the ‘96 film. Likewise Claire Skinner as Fanny Ferrars Dashwood seems to be doing a Miranda Richardson impression. There’s far too little of Mr. Palmer, and I missed his snarky comments. There were far too many moody shots of water crashing on rocky shores. And, as with the other new adaptations, WHY OH WHY the shaky, hand-held camera? That’s gotten tired in action movies; there’s absolutely no call for it in Victorian England!

At the end, I found it a mixed bag. Some excellent things, some good things, several bad things. Worth watching on television, but I would not buy the DVD. For more commentary, see Austenblog, and Maureen Ryan’s The Watcher.

I’m sure all you geeks know that Battlestar Galactica returns tonight for the first part of its last season, number 4. There is a funny, helpful video at Scifi.com called What the Frak is Going On, to help remind us of what’s gone before, since it’s been so frakkin’ long. The video is 8 minutes, but fast paced and well worth watching. It reminded me of why I’ve loved the show, and still have hope for a strong last season.

A seamless transition from Project Runway 4 to Top Chef 4. There’s a thread for comments at ALoTT5MA.

Watching food shows at night makes me hungry. Wait, MORE hungry.

Sorry if the title offends; it’s a quote from the adorable Daniel V. of Season 2.

Christian and Tim have a walkoff on the roof. Why wasn’t this on the show? (Link from the fabuloso Tom and Lorenzo at Project RunGay.)

Nathan from TeeVee dishes on his geek love for Austen and the PBS Masterpiece’s The Complete Austen, which I’ve been (mostly) enjoying. I agree that Olivia Williams was great in Miss Austen Regrets, and that the series as a whole is well done and enjoyable. I don’t, though, think Gillian Anderson is doing herself any favors revisiting Scully-red hair, and I found the Mansfield Park production in general, and Billie Piper in particular, wanting.

In a grievous lapse in taste, this week’s Project Runway episode, Raw Talent, challenged the designers to make wrestling costumes for women of the WWE. Absurd and entertaining, yes, but a showcase for the contestants’ ability to design a women’s fashion line? No. Just no.

Like the avant-garde challenge, this one was suited to Chris. Also like that challenge, he and Christian fully embraced it and produced spectacular ensembles. Jillian’s was good, Sweet P struggled, Rami thought that draping an ample bosom in brightest pink was an OK idea, but Ricky missed the mark by creating a bathing suit, not a wrestling costume.

Five are now left. Most fans I talk to predict that the final three will be Rami, Christian and Jillian. The latter’s utter lack of emotion (last night’s example, the flate restatement of her client’s exuberant reaction, “She loved it.”) does not have me looking forward to that. Sweet P and Chris are far more vibrant and interesting, though probably not as skilled as Miss J.

Check out Project Rungay, and Manolo’s recap for more snip-sniping.

Miss Austen Regrets, this past Sunday’s entry in the PBS Masterpiece series, The Complete Jane Austen, received decidedly mixed reviews. I enjoyed it, though. Like the better adaptations, it made me want to learn more.

Those who didn’t like the production, like Maureen Ryan, said it relied too much on details of Jane’s life. This would help explain why MAR seems to have been better received by the readership at Austenblog, who name Olivia Williams’s performance and the letter-burning scene at the end as particular high points.

I enjoyed Gillian’s Anderson’s prefatory remark that so little historical record remains of Jane that we can only imagine her life. I thought Olivia Williams made an interesting and complicated Jane, and I really liked the scene where Miss Austen sees her books on display at the Prince Regent’s, and where she tells her niece that the only way to have a man like Mr. Darcy is to make him up. I also appreciated how the adaptation highlighted how Austen’s novels are more than romances–they’re each a different investigation into the social and financial pressures to marry, among many other things.

I did dislike some things, as well. There was shaky, handheld camera work, which should have stopped being in vogue, and is hardly needed to convey life in Austen’s time. There were long-held shots on domestic and outdoor images, which indicated to me that the creators were hard-pressed to extend the few known details of Austen to 90 minutes. This is an interesting contrast to the recent versions of Persuasion, Northanger Abbey and Mansfield Park, which tried to long, complex novels into an all-too-brief hour and a half.

I’m noticing a trend that the adaptations Janeites like are not liked by critics, who don’t get all the details that were right, while the adaptations that take the most liberties annoy those who know better, but end up delighting those who don’t. In Entertainment Weekly this week, Becoming Jane gets a B+ while The Jane Austen Book Club, based on Karen Joy Fowler’s well-detailed book, only gets a C+. This was the reverse appraisal of Richard Roeper when the films came out, and he seemed rather more well informed on Jane than I would have thought.

Miss Austen Regrets seems to have been better received by lovers of Jane than by critics in general, perhaps because it was attentive to details like the order of the novels, if not her hats.

I loathed the 2007 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, shown on PBS’s Masterpiece theater as part of The Complete Jane Austen. Dr. Who’s Billie Piper is miscast as Fanny Price, whose characterization seems to consist almost entirely of her chasing wildly after someone or something, or pouting at or about Edmund. Austen’s Fanny is ethical to a fault, self-effacing, and quiet. Piper’s voluptuous blond prettiness would be much more suited to the role of Harriet Smith in Emma. The movie’s 90 minutes condenses Austen’s complex story to a caricature of itself, leaving out many critical plot points, like Fanny’s return to her family at Portsmouth. This adaptation glosses over much of the subtleties of Austen’s humor, while the scene at the end when Edmund realizes his love for Fanny is played so broadly that I cringed.

I’ve enjoyed the two other adaptations in the PBS series–Persuasion and Northanger Abbey. Persuasion was distinguished by the tense pauses in conversation that conveyed much of what had to go unsaid because of the conversational conventions and constraints of the time. Northanger Abbey did an excellent job of portraying Catherine’s romantic imagination, and alluding to the timelessness of teenage hormones. It did a good job with Austen’s sense of humor and propriety. Both these adaptations weren’t as good as their sources, but reminded me fondly of the books, and made me want to read them again.

Mansfield Park (2007), though, made me want to flee to the book, if only to get away from such a poor representation of it. Read the book, or rent the Patricia Rozema adaptation. It takes some broad departures from the text in Fanny’s character; this earned the scorn of ardent Jane-ites. But it is a well-made, well-cast film that does more justice to what many consider Austen’s most complex novel. The learned ladies at Austenblog didn’t care for Rozema’s Mansfield Park, so on that we’ll have to disagree. But they’re a wonderful resource for all things Austen if you want to learn more.

I’m with Tom and Lorenzo of Project Rungay on this one: Christian was robbed. Yes, he made the same 80’s era shrunken jacket, but he did the most with the most. The jeans, especially with the sleeve detail, were more impressive to me than Ricky’s or Sweet P’s, though both of theirs were probably more retail-able.

My favorite moment was Jillian’s weird meltdown where she whimpered, “I’m bleeding everywhere.” Rami came over and said, “I don’t see anything,” then Sweet P told her to hold it together till midnight. Her “breakdown” was barely above a whisper.

Readers at A List of Things… hijacked a comment thread till they got their own.

Has anyone else noticed that Heidi Klum is dressing as if she’s hiding a bump? Any rumors out there that’s she’s pregnant?

I caught Road to the Runway, the prologue to Season 3, and was interested to see Simone, Jillian and Steven auditioning. Were they Season 3 also-rans, I wonder, or did circumstances prevail against them?