“Miss Austen Regrets” was probably my favorite new film of the recent PBS series, The Complete Jane Austen. It’s just now showing in England, and Austenblog has a good roundup of the reviews, which seem more negative than the ones stateside.
It also has a link to the Jane Austen Society of North America’s details on the men in the film, which I found illuminating.
My husband G. Grod and I finally started to rein in our household spending, and one of the first things we did was establish a grocery budget. As I’ve worked with the budget, I’ve changed my shopping habits, and with practice I’ve reduced our grocery bill with better planning and fewer impulse buys.
One of the key cost saving measures is buying items from the bulk aisle. Our grocery coop has an impressive selection of items. And if I plan ahead, I can bring my own containers to fill, so I’m reducing waste and not paying for packaging. I now buy a huge number of our staples in bulk: eggs, peanut butter, honey, olive oil, vanilla, pasta, flour, sugar, granola, popcorn, dried fruit and other baking supplies like oats and nuts.
Not only has our weekly grocery bill gone down, but this helps with inventory control, as I’m able to buy just a little at a time, and our recycling has been reduced, because we’re buying much less packaging.
Our coop is having a sale on bulk till the end of April; if you live nearby, give it a try. Bring your own bags, bring your own bulk containers, and save money, space, and waste.
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.
Also, raised as I was by a feminist mother, on Ms. magazine, the sense that you can have it all was instilled in all of us — and I’m really glad that it was. But when motherhood pulls you in one direction, and work pulls you in another, that sense becomes diluted. Somebody said to me long ago that it’s not a question of having it all, but that you can have a lot of most things. That’s a nice way to think about it. Think about if your life is going in the direction you want it to go, and try not to be riddled with self-doubt.
(interview link from Bookslut)
Wolitzer’s new book is a fictional take on the work/home mommy debate, set in NYC. It’s gotten a good review at EW, and at Mental Multivitamin. I keep saying I’m going to get back to my home book shelves, but there’s too much that tempts me, like this.
Last November, children’s book author/illustrator extraordinaire Mo Willems announced that he was writing a new Pigeon book, and that the title began, “The Pigeon Wants A…” School kids were invited to write in with their guesses. The publisher received over 13,000 replies; many schoolteachers galvanized their classes for group replies. (Links thanks to ALoTT5MA)
Well, April 1 was the announcement date. Here is what the Pigeon wants. Unfortunately, it may be what my son, 4yo Drake, wants too.
We’ll get the book. Not the other thing, though.
The Morning News announces the winner of The Tournament of Books. It’s one I haven’t gotten to yet, though on deck after Marianne Wiggins’s Shadow Catcher, which is at bat. The tournament, the judging and the commentary were lots of fun, and I’ve really enjoyed the books I’ve read because of it, and look forward to the ones I haven’t got to yet.
Twin Citians, we deserve a sweet escape from this dreadful weather. The new series from TakeUp, screwball romantic comedies from the depression, starts tonight at the Parkway. The snow will prevent me from going tonight, but those of you who are closer might check out Easy Living, which I’ve not seen.
The Guthrie Theater’s recent run of Jane Eyre was so well received that the show was brought back, and is running through Sunday March 30. I didn’t attend the first run because of a middling review, but couldn’t resist the second run’s media blitz and high praise.
The production had many good things about it, especially the lead performances and chemistry between Stacia Rice as Jane and Sean Haberle as Rochester. Also strong were supporting performances by Charity Jones as Bertha and Barbara Bryne as Mrs. Fairfax. The latter character was so funny and significant that she stood out in this stage version as she has not yet done in the book, for me.
The Wurtele Thrust Stage of the new Guthrie was well utilized. The sets were spare, fitting for the severe settings of the story. My seat was high up and stage right, but the view was excellent. While I saw rather more of the back of Rochester’s head than I would have liked, Haberle has an impressive head of hair, and I got compensating views of Rice’s expressive face. I thought her severe hairline well suited to the character of Jane, until I saw her from the side and noticed the bump where the actress’s real hairline was covered. Unfortunately for me, this brought to mind a Ferengi, hardly a beneficial mental image during Jane Eyre.
And there, my praise ends. I understand that details of the story must be cut or compacted to get the audience home before midnight. I missed many of my favorite scenes, such as Jane in the red room. I was disappointed in the staging decisions of others; I would very much have liked for Jane to have thrown a ewer of water on Rochester in his burning bed, if only for the sight of Haberle in a wet nightshirt. And I questioned a few of the casting decisions. Adele was a pale, freckled redhead, as was Blanche Ingram. I thought Bronte’s imagery of Adele as a blue-eyed blond and Blanche as a dark-skinned brunette were strong influences in my experiences of their characters in the book.
All of those quibbles I might have forgiven, but others went too far for me. While the burr of northern England and Scotland was a good reminder of the story’s setting, the accents came and went. Worst of all was St. John Rivers, whose accent often seemed more French than Scottish. With his characterization, this reduced him to a clown, rather than a proud, headstrong man to be pitied. Diana and Mary were simpering and played for laughs, not the intelligent, dignified characters of the books. The greatest problem I had, though, was that Bronte’s strong, beautiful prose has been changed in several places, and for no good reason. Several of my favorite lines were changed, most notably St. John’s statement while he proposes to her that Jane is “formed for labour, not for love,” and Rochester’s exclamation when he realizes Jane has come back to him, “what sweet madness has seized me”.
I am left with the question of why adapt works for the stage and screen if it is necessary to remove so much that is good about them. Perhaps this was enjoyable to those who hadn’t read the book at all, or for a long time. Perhaps it will inspire people to seek out the book. Those are all fine things. But I’m coming to the conclusion, based on this and on the Masterpiece Austen adaptations, that I am not the target audience. I am too familiar and have too much affection for the source material to appreciate adaptations for themselves. And yet, I know I’ll continue to see them, if only for the brief moments that they bring to life wonderful parts of the books, like the humor in Jane Eyre that is so often overlooked in its reductive description as a dark, gothic tale.
Today is the first “zombie” match in the Morning News Tournament of Books–critical darling Then We Came to the End, which I just finished and loved, goes up against Remainder, which I’ve not yet read, and which one reader of this blog hated. Can Ferris continue his march to the final, or will he be defeated by a zombie, hungry for brains, and notoriously hard to kill?
Seven Deadly Words of Book Reviewing (link from Bookslut and Morning News.)
Stretching for the fanciful – writing “he crafts or pens” instead of “he writes”; writing “he muses” instead of “he says or thinks” – is a sure tip-off of weak writing.
Harris mentions one of my personal non-favorites, limn, at the end, but he missed brio. It’s a musical term hijacked by the pretentious. I’ve only seen it in book blurbs, never actually IN a book, and I’ve never heard it used in conversation.
While I agree with Harris, I must shamefacedly admit to using his deadly words in reviews on this blog. I am duly chastened.
The Nonist has posted lovely images from Candida Hofer’s book of photographs, Libraries. (Heads up thanks to Becca.) I had a hard time choosing which to post, since they’re stunning. While the Nonist jokes that it’s like porn for book nerds, I beg to differ.
Sexy? Yes. “Porn”? No. Art, baby, art.
Last week I went with my friend Becca to see Lionel Shriver, author of The Post-Birthday World, one of my favorite books of last year. I already knew Lionel was a woman, and I was not surprised that she was smart and funny in person. I’d assumed that she was English, since her bio says she lives in London and because she won The Orange Prize for her last novel. Yet when she began to speak, her accent was decidedly American, occasionally drawn out as from the South, though she certain words had the elongated sounds of London. She was born in North Carolina, and went to Columbia University. And she changed her name to Lionel at 15 just because she liked the sound of it and had never heard of it before.
I started Laura Lippmann’s What the Dead Know yesterday. I went to bed at 10:30. When I couldn’t sleep, I happily got up and read for another 90 minutes. I don’t think I’ll be posting much till I’m done. Which I hope is soon.
I am finally trying to catch up on my huge backlog of comments, because you are all awesome for writing me, and I am hugely lame for not commenting and replying. I manage a few replies, then get a message from Word Press:
You are posting comments too quickly. Slow down.
So the spirit is willing but the free software is cranky. I’ll try again tomorrow. As always, thank you for commenting, and emailing, and I will try to reply to each one, someday!
I did such a good job of eschewing library books last year that I missed out on the good stuff from 2007. I hope to read several of the books competing for the Morning News’ 2008 Tournament of Books, but I’m having trouble putting my hands on a few that have too-long queues at the library. Does anyone have a copy that I might borrow of:
Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris
The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
?
if so, let me know. I’m trying REALLY hard not to rush out and buy them.
One of my favorite books of last year was Lionel Shriver’s Post-Birthday World, which was also EW reviewer Jennifer Reese’s top book of the year, though not everyone liked the diverging tale of a woman’s fateful decision to stay or go. Shriver is touring select US cities to promote the paperback publication of the book, and will be at the University of Minnesota Bookstore next Thursday March 13, 2008 at 4 pm for a reading and signing.
If you’re fortunate enough to live in Philadelphia, you can see Shriver on Tuesday March 11, along with Laura Lippman, whose What the Dead Know is one of The Morning News’s Sweet Sixteen for their 2008 Tournament of Books, and which I just checked out of the library. You can get the books from Joseph Fox Bookshop at 17th and Sansom Streets, where I used to get books for my book group of sacred memory. Then visit Genji Japanese Restaurant, and you’ll have me awash in nostalgia, and burning with jealousy.
Oh, the geek in me loves how simple and functional this is, especially the bookmarking feature. Link from Boing Boing.
Did you know that Newbery-award winning author Paula Fox was the biological grandmother of Courtney Love? I found this memoir by Love’s mother.
For there are, it seems, people who feel stress about owning volumes they haven’t read. Evidently some of them believe a kind of statute of limitations is in effect. If you don’t expect to read something in, say, the next year, then, it is wrong to own it. And in many cases, their superegos have taken on the qualities of a really stern accountant – coming up with estimates of what percentage of the books on their shelves they have, or haven’t, gotten around to reading. Guilt and anxiety reinforce one another.
Who me?
At Inside Higher Ed, Scott McLemee considers some of the online kerfuffle over books on the shelf (link from Bookslut), and offers a kinder, yet still literary, alternative:
If you are going to have a moralizing voice in your head, maybe it’s best for it to sound like Francis Bacon….“Some books are to be tasted,” writes Bacon, “others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.”
And ultimately, of course:
It is, finally, a matter of taste.
The Morning News is holding its annual NBA alternative, the 2008 Tournament of Books, starting March 7. (Link from Bookslut.) Judges have been announced, but brackets are yet to come for these contenders, all of which are discounted for the tourney at Powells.com:
Run by Ann Patchett
On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson
Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris
Petropolis by Anya Ulinich
Ovenman by Jeff Parker
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot DÃaz
You Don’t Love Me Yet by Jonathan Lethem
New England White by Stephen L. Carter
Remainder by Tom McCarthy
The Shadow Catcher by Marianne Wiggins
The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño
Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name by Vendela Vida
Shining at the Bottom of the Sea by Stephen Marche
What the Dead Know by Laura Lippman
An Arsonist’s Guide to Writers’ Homes in New England by Brock Clarke