I have been put in my place. From One far more knowledgeable on the subject than myself, I have been informed of yet a third representation of "Mansfield Park," which, I must admit, does bear a close resemblance to the novel. I've only seen clips, but the 1983 version seems to do justice to Mary Crawford, Lady Bertram, Henry Crawford, and Edmund, although I am as yet unconvinced regarding Fanny. Perhaps I am merely partial to the 2007 version ... but the 80's style of dress and hair, and cinematography, can only pale in comparison to our double blessing and curse of modern technology.
Thus humbled, I leave it to you: which is your preferred version of the three? And yes, that means a week-long marathon of Mansfield Park. I give you Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to read the novel (at 50-odd pages a day, that's a considerable amount), and then Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to see the three versions. Virtus tentamine gaudet! And see how many younger siblings (or scientifically-minded friends) you can bore into exhaustion with regency costume, "excessively diverting" language, and ten thousand a year?
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
*WARNING* : RANT
For loyal Jane Austen fans everywhere: BEWARE the TREACHERY of the 1999 version of "Mansfield Park."
Ok, that's a little extreme. Let's put it this way:
This week, I'm writing my paper on Jane Austen's novel "Mansfield Park." Having never before read the book (shocking, I know!) I was very much excited to spend some 3 or 4 hours doing so, and calling it "homework" only made the story all the more exciting! Anyway, reading it, as I did, with as intellectual and analytic an eye as I could, I formed a very solid idea in my head of the plot structure, themes, and especially of the characters. So it was with some hesitation, but an exceptionally strong curiosity, that I looked up the film on Youtube. The version I found first was the 2007 Masterpiece Theatre (which, by the way, I must add: I love MT, and have yet to be disappointed!) version with Billie Piper and James D'Arcy (not a prominent role, but fun to recognize nonetheless). It was EXCELLENT! I loved it! I was so happy to see such wonderful portrayals of all the characters! Of course, as a TV version, it could only go so far with plot, resulting in the cutting of a number of scenes, BUT NOT to the detriment of the overall piece. The characters were beautifully true to the story.
NOT SO for the 1999 version. Admittedly, Edmund is more the dashing young fellow in this version, and the scenery is to die for, but from the very start, from the very first scene Fanny is all wrong. After reading the book, you can hardly bring yourself to like the girl, for all her awkward, humiliating, humiliated, insipid, self-deprecating humbling awkwardness. She hardly speaks a word, has no wit or opinion or thought to speak of, crumbles and cries and quakes before the world - and yet, in spite of it all, she is gentleness itself; kind, patient, is not envious, is not puffed up. She is charity itself. And popular opinion is against her because of this: because she thinks only of others, because she is willing to be subservient and silent upon every reproach. Critics whine: why doesn't she stand up for herself? Where's her backbone, her individuality, her personality, her determination, her strength? What they don't understand is that her weakness is her strength. In her silence is her voice.
Not so our little 1999 heroine,the self-assured upstart snarky little bright young thing. In her first scene, she's making up stories to comfort her younger sister. From the incorrigible young age of nine, she's interested in the issue of slavery. For pete's sake, if you read the BOOK, she bawls the entire trip to Mansfield, the entire first week there, and then off and on during the next eight years. EIGHT YEARS of pining and whining. And feministic pouty little miss adventure-and-curiosity has the nerve to stare petulantly into the camera and tell us how bored she is. "Voracious" reading? WRITING? Quirky? Yes. Funny? Maybe. Accurate? Emphatically NOT.
[And, on that note, NO subtlety whatsoever. Which is the essence of Austen's writing and wit ... I wince and wince and wince at the portrayals of Mrs. Norris, Tom Bertram, Rushworth, etc. But that shall be another rant, another day.]
[Oh! and the seduction scene in the East Room? KOWTOWING to our modern day society who have no brains or wit enough to understand what's going on unless it is played out in detail in front of them, to the great perversion of characters ... Edmund? For example? SERIOUSLY? And Mary: CREEPY.]
Why portray her as Alice in Wonderland? Why portray her as Jo March? Why portray her as Jane Austen herself? Or even Lizzy Bennet? Why portray her as anything other than Fanny Price??? Let the other girls stick to their own stories! Fanny has enough people pushing her around and telling her how to behave; can't we give her a little room and let her BE HERSELF? Isn't that what modern society has been drumming into our heads these past, what, fifty years?
So, maybe I'm a purist. So, maybe I'm a perfectionist. So, maybe I'm reading too much into the story ... or staying up too late at night. Very probably yes. But while studying literature, it becomes all the more obvious and irksome when such great works are misrepresented; and it also becomes vitally important for these works and their characters to be well portrayed for the *sigh* dare I say it? Uncultured masses. Ok, that sounds snobbish. Let's say, the general population. Those who haven't read the books, but get dragged by the hair to see the films (or fall asleep in the middle of them on the family room couch). And for the not-so-general population as well, those who have read and enjoyed and can appreciate the books; are they not irritated ... even the slightest bit ... to see things shown in ways they are not meant to be? What about future generations,when books become extinct and stuffy old archeologists turn to ancient, worm-eaten fragments of VHS film for their information, holding the shreds up to the light to see images of strange people in bird feathers and large hair, ornate dresses (probably worn for complicated rain-dance or sacrifical rituals) and bizarre footear; and the discovery of a DVD player will win the Nobel Prize! Just think of how they will be able to see us all ... *sigh*
Ok, getting extreme again.
Anyway, READ THE BOOK. READ THE BOOK. READ THE BOOK.
Then use your God-given gifts of intelligence, reason, and free will - watch the films, and form your own opinions. [now that I have told you what to think, muwahahahahaha]
Until later!
Yours truly :)
And just sayin', Mary Crawford looks TERRIBLE. Lady Bertram WORSE. But Julia is BEAUTIFUL. MOLLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
... if you haven't, READ and SEE and DELIGHT IN Mary Gaskell's "Wives and Daughters." Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!
Ok, that's a little extreme. Let's put it this way:
This week, I'm writing my paper on Jane Austen's novel "Mansfield Park." Having never before read the book (shocking, I know!) I was very much excited to spend some 3 or 4 hours doing so, and calling it "homework" only made the story all the more exciting! Anyway, reading it, as I did, with as intellectual and analytic an eye as I could, I formed a very solid idea in my head of the plot structure, themes, and especially of the characters. So it was with some hesitation, but an exceptionally strong curiosity, that I looked up the film on Youtube. The version I found first was the 2007 Masterpiece Theatre (which, by the way, I must add: I love MT, and have yet to be disappointed!) version with Billie Piper and James D'Arcy (not a prominent role, but fun to recognize nonetheless). It was EXCELLENT! I loved it! I was so happy to see such wonderful portrayals of all the characters! Of course, as a TV version, it could only go so far with plot, resulting in the cutting of a number of scenes, BUT NOT to the detriment of the overall piece. The characters were beautifully true to the story.
NOT SO for the 1999 version. Admittedly, Edmund is more the dashing young fellow in this version, and the scenery is to die for, but from the very start, from the very first scene Fanny is all wrong. After reading the book, you can hardly bring yourself to like the girl, for all her awkward, humiliating, humiliated, insipid, self-deprecating humbling awkwardness. She hardly speaks a word, has no wit or opinion or thought to speak of, crumbles and cries and quakes before the world - and yet, in spite of it all, she is gentleness itself; kind, patient, is not envious, is not puffed up. She is charity itself. And popular opinion is against her because of this: because she thinks only of others, because she is willing to be subservient and silent upon every reproach. Critics whine: why doesn't she stand up for herself? Where's her backbone, her individuality, her personality, her determination, her strength? What they don't understand is that her weakness is her strength. In her silence is her voice.
Not so our little 1999 heroine,the self-assured upstart snarky little bright young thing. In her first scene, she's making up stories to comfort her younger sister. From the incorrigible young age of nine, she's interested in the issue of slavery. For pete's sake, if you read the BOOK, she bawls the entire trip to Mansfield, the entire first week there, and then off and on during the next eight years. EIGHT YEARS of pining and whining. And feministic pouty little miss adventure-and-curiosity has the nerve to stare petulantly into the camera and tell us how bored she is. "Voracious" reading? WRITING? Quirky? Yes. Funny? Maybe. Accurate? Emphatically NOT.
[And, on that note, NO subtlety whatsoever. Which is the essence of Austen's writing and wit ... I wince and wince and wince at the portrayals of Mrs. Norris, Tom Bertram, Rushworth, etc. But that shall be another rant, another day.]
[Oh! and the seduction scene in the East Room? KOWTOWING to our modern day society who have no brains or wit enough to understand what's going on unless it is played out in detail in front of them, to the great perversion of characters ... Edmund? For example? SERIOUSLY? And Mary: CREEPY.]
Why portray her as Alice in Wonderland? Why portray her as Jo March? Why portray her as Jane Austen herself? Or even Lizzy Bennet? Why portray her as anything other than Fanny Price??? Let the other girls stick to their own stories! Fanny has enough people pushing her around and telling her how to behave; can't we give her a little room and let her BE HERSELF? Isn't that what modern society has been drumming into our heads these past, what, fifty years?
So, maybe I'm a purist. So, maybe I'm a perfectionist. So, maybe I'm reading too much into the story ... or staying up too late at night. Very probably yes. But while studying literature, it becomes all the more obvious and irksome when such great works are misrepresented; and it also becomes vitally important for these works and their characters to be well portrayed for the *sigh* dare I say it? Uncultured masses. Ok, that sounds snobbish. Let's say, the general population. Those who haven't read the books, but get dragged by the hair to see the films (or fall asleep in the middle of them on the family room couch). And for the not-so-general population as well, those who have read and enjoyed and can appreciate the books; are they not irritated ... even the slightest bit ... to see things shown in ways they are not meant to be? What about future generations,when books become extinct and stuffy old archeologists turn to ancient, worm-eaten fragments of VHS film for their information, holding the shreds up to the light to see images of strange people in bird feathers and large hair, ornate dresses (probably worn for complicated rain-dance or sacrifical rituals) and bizarre footear; and the discovery of a DVD player will win the Nobel Prize! Just think of how they will be able to see us all ... *sigh*
Ok, getting extreme again.
Anyway, READ THE BOOK. READ THE BOOK. READ THE BOOK.
Then use your God-given gifts of intelligence, reason, and free will - watch the films, and form your own opinions. [now that I have told you what to think, muwahahahahaha]
Until later!
Yours truly :)
And just sayin', Mary Crawford looks TERRIBLE. Lady Bertram WORSE. But Julia is BEAUTIFUL. MOLLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
... if you haven't, READ and SEE and DELIGHT IN Mary Gaskell's "Wives and Daughters." Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!
Olives and Cameras
No, I have not been taking photos of olives. That would show a higly disturbing lack of sleep, and a highly disturbing level of boredom (I'm such an easily-pleased and -entertained individual as to render this quite, quite .... well, nearly impossible). However, I did just spend the greater part of the afternoon in the Radcliffe Camera (the big round building generally mentally associated with the Bodleian - and no, I've no clue the why or wherefore of the "camera" part, but it's named after
IOHANNES RADCLIFFE M.D.
HUIUS BIBLIOTHECAE
FUNDATOR
as it is formidably inscribed upon the lofty wall)
Wow. That was a long parenthetical tangental digression.
Anyway, camera. Yes. And after discovering parallels between Jane Austen's life and the life of Mary Gaskell's fictional heroine Margaret Hale from North and South [READ if you have not, and then SEE and DELIGHT in, among other things, summer snow!] and that George Eliot [Middlemarch: READ and then SEE and DELIGHT in ... well, lots of stuff] considered 'art' the nearest thing to life [curious concept, but I love it!], and other such brilliant and probably wholly unuseful-outside-academics [my knowledge as I know it] facts ...
Anyway, yes. Point being, in this blissfully distracted state of mind, I was in the process of returning to the dorm when I passed by an olive stand. Anyone who has had the misfortune of passing through the condiments aisle, yours truly in tow, will assure you that the only hitherto successful method of ungluing my consciousness from that heavenly assortment of little glass jars is to pick one off the shelf,put it in the cart, and then walk away with the cart. Now, of course, I paused. The mad rush of shoppers were forced to swerve around me as I stood in the middle of the walkway and grinned. I grinned and grinned and grinned: I had MONEY in my POCKET, and there were OLIVES for SALE! And the olive man stuck one on a toothpick and held it out to me. I put it to you: how could I refuse? And so I skipped gleefully home with a box of fresh, oily, over-priced olives clutched in my hands. Somehow being over-priced means they must be perfection itself, right? Well, they were.
And now, after an excessively diverting blog post on OLIVES (notice how you can spell 'I loves'* with those letters :D) I am off to finish reading Mansfield Park, in the high hopes of completing it before dinner, so as to allow myself a few moments afterwards to youtube [notice the verbing!] the film. I watched the first few minutes, and then realized I should probably finish the book before seeing the film *sob* like with everything; but it's good motivation to read! ... not that Jane Austen ever needs a visual representation to complete or justify her existence! NEVER.
* as in "I loves 'em" ... though that would require an "em" somewhere in there. EMOLIVES? emo lives? OLIMVESE? like Inglese? a very golf fry ... gravy flo ... I dunno.
IOHANNES RADCLIFFE M.D.
HUIUS BIBLIOTHECAE
FUNDATOR
as it is formidably inscribed upon the lofty wall)
Wow. That was a long parenthetical tangental digression.
Anyway, camera. Yes. And after discovering parallels between Jane Austen's life and the life of Mary Gaskell's fictional heroine Margaret Hale from North and South [READ if you have not, and then SEE and DELIGHT in, among other things, summer snow!] and that George Eliot [Middlemarch: READ and then SEE and DELIGHT in ... well, lots of stuff] considered 'art' the nearest thing to life [curious concept, but I love it!], and other such brilliant and probably wholly unuseful-outside-academics [my knowledge as I know it] facts ...
Anyway, yes. Point being, in this blissfully distracted state of mind, I was in the process of returning to the dorm when I passed by an olive stand. Anyone who has had the misfortune of passing through the condiments aisle, yours truly in tow, will assure you that the only hitherto successful method of ungluing my consciousness from that heavenly assortment of little glass jars is to pick one off the shelf,put it in the cart, and then walk away with the cart. Now, of course, I paused. The mad rush of shoppers were forced to swerve around me as I stood in the middle of the walkway and grinned. I grinned and grinned and grinned: I had MONEY in my POCKET, and there were OLIVES for SALE! And the olive man stuck one on a toothpick and held it out to me. I put it to you: how could I refuse? And so I skipped gleefully home with a box of fresh, oily, over-priced olives clutched in my hands. Somehow being over-priced means they must be perfection itself, right? Well, they were.
And now, after an excessively diverting blog post on OLIVES (notice how you can spell 'I loves'* with those letters :D) I am off to finish reading Mansfield Park, in the high hopes of completing it before dinner, so as to allow myself a few moments afterwards to youtube [notice the verbing!] the film. I watched the first few minutes, and then realized I should probably finish the book before seeing the film *sob* like with everything; but it's good motivation to read! ... not that Jane Austen ever needs a visual representation to complete or justify her existence! NEVER.
* as in "I loves 'em" ... though that would require an "em" somewhere in there. EMOLIVES? emo lives? OLIMVESE? like Inglese? a very golf fry ... gravy flo ... I dunno.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Week 3, Michaelmas Term: Flown Away!
This week is no more; it is gone to meet its Maker; it is an EX-WEEK!
And unfortunately, there's not much to say about the poor fellow. He lived a good, though much too short, life. He never made much of himself, but lived quietly at home, trying his best to be cheerful despite the general tension in the family due to the stress of work. And now that he is gone, the weirdly warm weather has left with him, and the great gusts of grey winds blow in to seize us all and chill us to the bone. He is no more! He quite exploded, actually; and it was about time he made up his mind to do it, too.
Good riddance!
Anyway, yes, much too much in a bizarre mood to have anything real to say, not that there is much real to say, anyway. I could write a book on how much I love the libraries, but I think we've just about killed that topic. It is an EX-TOPIC! even if it does continue to cry, "I'm not dead yet!" I think we've had about enough.
And now for something completely different.
Along the edge of wilderness of green and gold and brown
The running water flows, and ceaselessly
The steady stream of trickling ripples down
To meet a paragon of pathways, meet
And cross and overlap where no one sees
The point. An ideal point, so cautiously
Removed from view; the running stream forbids
That glance, that apprehensive look so neatly
Cast upon the sacred apex, yet hid,
I alone, among the leaves, encouraged
By the chilling breath of dismal doubt
And fear, I leapt to great conclusions, seized
The day, and ran to find if I alone
Were able, among the rest, to stand above
And look below on windswept fields
Of empty green, and others full of golden sands,
Where no man had dared explore before.
I alone. I stood, I looked, I wept to see
The emptiness; and no one knew.
I wept, and would have cast my eyes
Upon some lesser good, some lighter fate,
I’d change the beauty for a calmer glory,
But another song swept past my ear
Encouraged me to look another way and seek
A different view; could I not meet
The paragon of pathways, meet and glance
Along the point of ideal truth and see
The running waters flow and trickle down
The ceaseless stream, the landscape
Of unapproachable dreams?
A bit of something I threw together during one of my more distracted moments. It flowed very easily, which was pleasant, but I'm really not sure what it means. (And NO, it wasn't even a sugar high! I think it was more just a general unwinding ... and a little lack of sleep ... !) But enjoy anyway!
Hopefully next week will bring with him some more exciting adventural presents; I'm afraid the last poor fellow was caught unawares and dragged away before he could even consider leaving me anything. I've become such a spoiled child :)
And unfortunately, there's not much to say about the poor fellow. He lived a good, though much too short, life. He never made much of himself, but lived quietly at home, trying his best to be cheerful despite the general tension in the family due to the stress of work. And now that he is gone, the weirdly warm weather has left with him, and the great gusts of grey winds blow in to seize us all and chill us to the bone. He is no more! He quite exploded, actually; and it was about time he made up his mind to do it, too.
Good riddance!
Anyway, yes, much too much in a bizarre mood to have anything real to say, not that there is much real to say, anyway. I could write a book on how much I love the libraries, but I think we've just about killed that topic. It is an EX-TOPIC! even if it does continue to cry, "I'm not dead yet!" I think we've had about enough.
And now for something completely different.
Along the edge of wilderness of green and gold and brown
The running water flows, and ceaselessly
The steady stream of trickling ripples down
To meet a paragon of pathways, meet
And cross and overlap where no one sees
The point. An ideal point, so cautiously
Removed from view; the running stream forbids
That glance, that apprehensive look so neatly
Cast upon the sacred apex, yet hid,
I alone, among the leaves, encouraged
By the chilling breath of dismal doubt
And fear, I leapt to great conclusions, seized
The day, and ran to find if I alone
Were able, among the rest, to stand above
And look below on windswept fields
Of empty green, and others full of golden sands,
Where no man had dared explore before.
I alone. I stood, I looked, I wept to see
The emptiness; and no one knew.
I wept, and would have cast my eyes
Upon some lesser good, some lighter fate,
I’d change the beauty for a calmer glory,
But another song swept past my ear
Encouraged me to look another way and seek
A different view; could I not meet
The paragon of pathways, meet and glance
Along the point of ideal truth and see
The running waters flow and trickle down
The ceaseless stream, the landscape
Of unapproachable dreams?
A bit of something I threw together during one of my more distracted moments. It flowed very easily, which was pleasant, but I'm really not sure what it means. (And NO, it wasn't even a sugar high! I think it was more just a general unwinding ... and a little lack of sleep ... !) But enjoy anyway!
Hopefully next week will bring with him some more exciting adventural presents; I'm afraid the last poor fellow was caught unawares and dragged away before he could even consider leaving me anything. I've become such a spoiled child :)
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Autumn in Oxford
Today some friends and I took a walk around the University parks; what a glorious day! Although the air was brisk, the sun was shining and warm, and the leaves were beautiful. Enjoy the photos!
The quad here is Keble College; we popped our heads in through the door. Very nice quad! Beautiful old brick.
The ducks were hilarious. This couple had bread, and the birds WANTED IT! They flocked around, squawking and honking and flapping and chasing each other; they even came up to us, looking at us expectantly, demanding a snack. We didn't have anything with us, so the birds stomped away, all huffy and cranky. Highly entertaining. :)
Friday, October 22, 2010
Week 2, Michaelmas Term: DISPARU!
She's murdering Time! Off with her head!
Well, what can I do? He's such an impertinent fellow; he keeps playing games with me. We run round and round in circles, one week after another, like squirrels scampering up and around a tree, higher and higher and higher ... not realizing how far we've gone, I keep following, trying to run all the faster! And then KABOOM! It all goes up in smoke; the tree and squirrels disappear, and there stands old Time, shown to be who he truly is: old, grumpy, impatient, and unwilling to budge for even a moment. I'm coming, I'm coming! I tell him, but he only pushes me all the harder forwards and forwards, faster and faster and faster and faster and AUGH! My paper is due! - you know how that goes!
Anyway, another week blasted into the past; onwards and upwards! I can't believe I've only posted twice this week; is that normal? That seems rather infrequently, though I haven't really been paying attention. Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future ... and yes, no worries, that's the only line I know.
Hope all is well with y'all; I'm going to try to go 'round the city tomorrow and take some more pix to liven up this little brown slab of cyberspace wallspace. Anything anybody wants to see particularly? Let me know, I'll try to be obliging!
Well, what can I do? He's such an impertinent fellow; he keeps playing games with me. We run round and round in circles, one week after another, like squirrels scampering up and around a tree, higher and higher and higher ... not realizing how far we've gone, I keep following, trying to run all the faster! And then KABOOM! It all goes up in smoke; the tree and squirrels disappear, and there stands old Time, shown to be who he truly is: old, grumpy, impatient, and unwilling to budge for even a moment. I'm coming, I'm coming! I tell him, but he only pushes me all the harder forwards and forwards, faster and faster and faster and faster and AUGH! My paper is due! - you know how that goes!
Anyway, another week blasted into the past; onwards and upwards! I can't believe I've only posted twice this week; is that normal? That seems rather infrequently, though I haven't really been paying attention. Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future ... and yes, no worries, that's the only line I know.
Hope all is well with y'all; I'm going to try to go 'round the city tomorrow and take some more pix to liven up this little brown slab of cyberspace wallspace. Anything anybody wants to see particularly? Let me know, I'll try to be obliging!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Rain
Today, it RAINED. A good, strong, proper British rain. Only sad point: I didn't have my wellies on :( Next time!
Now, guys, we have just a few minutes for Flattery 101. Learn from the best!
« Since my lady of Champagne / Wishes me to begin a romance, / I shall do so most willingly, / As one who is entirely at her service / I anything he can undertake in this world. / I say this without any flattery, / Though another might begin his story / With the desire to flatter her. / He might say (and I would agree) / That she is the lady who surpasses / All women who are alive, / Just as the foehn which blows in May or April, / Surpasses the other winds. / Certainly I am not one / Intent upon flattering his lady; / Will I say: ‘as the polished diamond / Eclipses the pearl and the sard, / The countess eclipses queens’? / Indeed not; I’ll say nothing of the sort / Though it be true in spite of me. / I will say, however, that her command / Has more importance in this work / Than any thought or effort I might put into it.”
- Chretien de Troyes. Command of words. It's a beautiful thing.
Now, guys, we have just a few minutes for Flattery 101. Learn from the best!
« Since my lady of Champagne / Wishes me to begin a romance, / I shall do so most willingly, / As one who is entirely at her service / I anything he can undertake in this world. / I say this without any flattery, / Though another might begin his story / With the desire to flatter her. / He might say (and I would agree) / That she is the lady who surpasses / All women who are alive, / Just as the foehn which blows in May or April, / Surpasses the other winds. / Certainly I am not one / Intent upon flattering his lady; / Will I say: ‘as the polished diamond / Eclipses the pearl and the sard, / The countess eclipses queens’? / Indeed not; I’ll say nothing of the sort / Though it be true in spite of me. / I will say, however, that her command / Has more importance in this work / Than any thought or effort I might put into it.”
- Chretien de Troyes. Command of words. It's a beautiful thing.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Oxford: Inspector Lewis ... and Hathaway :)
Ok, so, those of you who have seen the PBS Masterpiece series "Inspector Lewis" or even have heard of it will imagine my "wait, what?" moment of astonishment, surprise, and a little wimsical glee when Hathaway passed me in the street this morning. At least, it looked awfully a lot like him, and he had a handful of serious-looking persons about, with a policeman or two thrown in for good measure. I was on my way to the Eng Fac at an ungodly hour (considering it is Sat) and I was walking down Broad Street, almost to Blackwells, when I glanced up (only tourists stare about and look at things in Oxford; those who know keep their eyes glued to the pavement)to see this group of people pass by, with this really tall blonde guy in the centre, talking on his cell phone. (I thought it a bit too creepy to post a picture here, but for those of your curious enough, little grey cells + google does wonders). He didn't see me *sob* and I was too polite (or just too out of it, take your pick) to stop them and interrupt and be all touristy and ask for an autograph or something, so I just kept walking. I was even too out of it to notice if Lewis was there too ... but oh well. Probably my closest brush with claim-to-fame ever, but it was cool :)
Anyway, back to Sense and Sensibility; To be sensible or not to be sensible, that is the question! ... and "sensible" had an entirely different, nearly opposite meaning, in Austen's time, so choose wisely!
Anyway, back to Sense and Sensibility; To be sensible or not to be sensible, that is the question! ... and "sensible" had an entirely different, nearly opposite meaning, in Austen's time, so choose wisely!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Week 1, Michaelmas Term: GONE
WOOSH. The sound of my life flying by!
Just got out of my Courtly Romances seminar. It was really fun; the professor loved my paper, which definitely makes my week. It also makes all the work worth it! All those long, dreary hours by myself, huddled over some moth-eaten collection of crunchy, flattened trees ... but I think I used this metaphor already.
Anyway! So, next week: Sense and Sensibility, and The Knight of the Cart. I'm looking forward to both :)
Can you believe a whole week has gone by since last Friday? Completely impossible. Of the eight weeks in an Oxford term, I have completed an entire week! One-eighth of the term is GONE! Never to occur again! So sad. And I'm already receiving pre-registration email from back home! Can you believe it?
Anyway, off to read, and write, and read some more :D Caloo, calay! I chortle.
Just got out of my Courtly Romances seminar. It was really fun; the professor loved my paper, which definitely makes my week. It also makes all the work worth it! All those long, dreary hours by myself, huddled over some moth-eaten collection of crunchy, flattened trees ... but I think I used this metaphor already.
Anyway! So, next week: Sense and Sensibility, and The Knight of the Cart. I'm looking forward to both :)
Can you believe a whole week has gone by since last Friday? Completely impossible. Of the eight weeks in an Oxford term, I have completed an entire week! One-eighth of the term is GONE! Never to occur again! So sad. And I'm already receiving pre-registration email from back home! Can you believe it?
Anyway, off to read, and write, and read some more :D Caloo, calay! I chortle.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Yay for Catherine!
Okay, okay, so, I'm not the one for whom we are cheering ... exclusively.
Pretty much this entire week I have spent my time chained to a desk, huddled over some ancient book or other, with stiff, cracking pages and a moth-eaten binding, in order to produce an amazing little piece of literary criticism, if I do say so myself. Thank you, thank you ... autographs after the photographs, if you don't mind. The atmosphere in which these decrepit volumes reside is not only condusive to such work, but also fascinating in and of itself.
Item one: The Bod. Where they have so many books, they don't know what to do with them, so they hoard them away in deep, dark cellars somewhere, only to emerge when requested by some geeky student who absolutely must have such-and-such a volume in order to complete his masterpiece of a thesis. Or term paper. Or tutorial paper. *ahem* Upstairs, in the airy but slightly dizzying halls of the Upper and Lower reading rooms, books line the shelves which line the walls, sandwiching in between an assortment of readers, busily pouring over [that is not the correct term. Is it "poring"?] this assorment of books.
Item two: the Eng Fac. Tucked away down a shady sort of longish roundabout crazily curved length of road, this library holds some thousand works on and by Jane Austen. Ok, maybe a bit of a hyperbole there .... and it's not a hyper-bowl, like the super bowl; but you can see for yourself in this very funny link I found on a friend's blog (Julie, I don't know if you're reading this, but if you are: I love your Corner!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIvrDsnKuQ8&feature=player_embedded
Item three: The Taylorian. Humbly hidden behind the imposing Ashmolean (which, is quite the experience itself ... but we'll save that one for a rainy day), the Taylorian houses a large collection of linguistic works and volumes in other languages. Like the Bod, Taylor also keeps its books tucked away in the recesses of its domain, yet unlike the Bod, these recesses are accessible to the common man. And if anyone wants a year-long game of hide-and-seek, this is the ultimate location.
But as for Catherine. With regards to me, I wrote and presented my very first paper of the term, and am now very excited. With regards to the paper, it was on Catherine Morland, heroine of the supposedly anti-gothic novel "Northanger Abbey." However, as I proved - or attempted to prove - in my essay, the novel is not really anti-gothic, or even satirically gothic, but rather satirically conventional. It's a long story. But it was fun. Do read the novel if you haven't! Catherine is a sensible sort, once you get to know her ;)
Pretty much this entire week I have spent my time chained to a desk, huddled over some ancient book or other, with stiff, cracking pages and a moth-eaten binding, in order to produce an amazing little piece of literary criticism, if I do say so myself. Thank you, thank you ... autographs after the photographs, if you don't mind. The atmosphere in which these decrepit volumes reside is not only condusive to such work, but also fascinating in and of itself.
Item one: The Bod. Where they have so many books, they don't know what to do with them, so they hoard them away in deep, dark cellars somewhere, only to emerge when requested by some geeky student who absolutely must have such-and-such a volume in order to complete his masterpiece of a thesis. Or term paper. Or tutorial paper. *ahem* Upstairs, in the airy but slightly dizzying halls of the Upper and Lower reading rooms, books line the shelves which line the walls, sandwiching in between an assortment of readers, busily pouring over [that is not the correct term. Is it "poring"?] this assorment of books.
Item two: the Eng Fac. Tucked away down a shady sort of longish roundabout crazily curved length of road, this library holds some thousand works on and by Jane Austen. Ok, maybe a bit of a hyperbole there .... and it's not a hyper-bowl, like the super bowl; but you can see for yourself in this very funny link I found on a friend's blog (Julie, I don't know if you're reading this, but if you are: I love your Corner!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIvrDsnKuQ8&feature=player_embedded
Item three: The Taylorian. Humbly hidden behind the imposing Ashmolean (which, is quite the experience itself ... but we'll save that one for a rainy day), the Taylorian houses a large collection of linguistic works and volumes in other languages. Like the Bod, Taylor also keeps its books tucked away in the recesses of its domain, yet unlike the Bod, these recesses are accessible to the common man. And if anyone wants a year-long game of hide-and-seek, this is the ultimate location.
But as for Catherine. With regards to me, I wrote and presented my very first paper of the term, and am now very excited. With regards to the paper, it was on Catherine Morland, heroine of the supposedly anti-gothic novel "Northanger Abbey." However, as I proved - or attempted to prove - in my essay, the novel is not really anti-gothic, or even satirically gothic, but rather satirically conventional. It's a long story. But it was fun. Do read the novel if you haven't! Catherine is a sensible sort, once you get to know her ;)
Light
I'm not sure where this came from; the first half I've had for a while and just needed something to close it off. I think Christina Rosetti did something similar, but I can't remember what it's called.
Enjoy :)
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
There is light within the window; there is light within the tree
There is light which pours upon the ground and soaks into the earth;
There is light surrounding meadows and a dance of gleeful mirth.
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
All the colors of the rainbow spread their garments out for thee
And the wind that shakes the barley and the heather and the rye
Cannot brush away the sunshine that comes tickling my eye.
But what is light? And what is mirth? And what’s this joy of life?
Is it beauty? Is it goodness? Or the end of painful strife?
Is it music of the heartbeat trembling through the winter air?
Is it softly smiling faces out when no one else is there?
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
The truth and wisdom of the years come rushing up to me
And in the midst of deep, dank darkness of a world as hard as coal
There is light and love and cheeriness which permeate my soul.
Enjoy :)
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
There is light within the window; there is light within the tree
There is light which pours upon the ground and soaks into the earth;
There is light surrounding meadows and a dance of gleeful mirth.
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
All the colors of the rainbow spread their garments out for thee
And the wind that shakes the barley and the heather and the rye
Cannot brush away the sunshine that comes tickling my eye.
But what is light? And what is mirth? And what’s this joy of life?
Is it beauty? Is it goodness? Or the end of painful strife?
Is it music of the heartbeat trembling through the winter air?
Is it softly smiling faces out when no one else is there?
From the rising of the river to the setting of the sea
The truth and wisdom of the years come rushing up to me
And in the midst of deep, dank darkness of a world as hard as coal
There is light and love and cheeriness which permeate my soul.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Pix! Again!
The blog is starting to lose its colour, so I'll treat you to some cool shots (and yes, I seem to be using the word "cool" a lot today, not sure why; sorry) from Blenheim. There were a lot of roses. Yay! Colour! (don't you love creative spelling?)NOW I'm going to go write my paper.
Big Grin
I feel like such a scholar. I went and studied in the Bodleian today. *grin* *excited wave of hands* *little head dance thing* I've no idea what happened this morning; I can't for the life of me remember. I expect there was some sort of breakfast, and making of the bed, and maybe some studying? but it seems so long ago.
Very weird.
But after lunch I headed off to the English Faculty (in American, "department") library, where I found, much to my inner geek's ecstatic delight, "The Romance of the Forest," by Ann Radcliffe. This book, along with many others, such as Radcliffe's "Mysteries of Udolpho" form the core of classic gothic romance novels, which Jane Austen tends to mock/satirize/mimic in her own works. She also makes reference to them, particularly in "Northanger Abbey" - her novel I am writing on right now! "Romance of the Forest" is mentioned in "Emma;" remember, when Emma asks Harriet if Mr. Martin has yet taken her advice and read it ... ? *awkward moment for Harriet*! But it all turns out well in the end, everyone lives happily ever after, Emma has much more important things to think about than Mr. Martin ... ! *I heart Mr. Knightley!* Just had to get that in there. Anyway, so a bit of cool background historical literary stuff.
Then, after the Eng Fac, I made my way to the Bod. I love the Bod. Just sayin'. It's a big, imposing building with Latin scrawled across its doorways and creaky old staircases, FILLED with books. Old books, new books, weird books, blue books. And everyone in there seems so intellectual and scholarly. I felt quite small and ignorant without any huge round glasses perched precariously on my nose, or without a leaning tower of books slipping off my desk, or without my matching bowtie and fountain pen set.
I dont have a bowtie. But bowties are cool.
But I did have cool books to read, and fun papers to write, and a nice sort of freshman feeling of "I belong!" even when you really don't ... ? Y'all know what I mean. It's cool.
But I did find a cool book by Marie de France, known for her Lais and courtly romances and French poetry and stuff; she's written this really kind of strange, kind of funny, kind of neat poem (in french) called "St. Patrick's Purgatory," and the story goes that God showed St. Patrick a secret passage to Purgatory - something inbetween Dante's dark wood and the corner rooms in "Clue" ... never mind - and there are people guarding the entrance, and a knight named Owen eventually goes down there and has to resist the temptation of ten different temptations ... which is sort of strange because it's like the devils are tempting him to be punished ... ? I'm not sure, I was sort of just paging through it, I wasn't supposed to be reading it! but in the end, of course he prevails with grace and wins and comes home and lives to tell the tale. So that was neat; what I didn't understand was the connection between Marie de France (who, incidentally, is called that because she comes from France but actually spent time at Henry II and Eleanor's court in England, FYI) and St. Patrick. Or Ireland. Or Purgatory. But it was cool!
Now: making the connection between Jane Austen and the gothic style. I have 12 pages of notes for a 6-8 page paper. MAYBE I should start cutting things down a little ... !
Very weird.
But after lunch I headed off to the English Faculty (in American, "department") library, where I found, much to my inner geek's ecstatic delight, "The Romance of the Forest," by Ann Radcliffe. This book, along with many others, such as Radcliffe's "Mysteries of Udolpho" form the core of classic gothic romance novels, which Jane Austen tends to mock/satirize/mimic in her own works. She also makes reference to them, particularly in "Northanger Abbey" - her novel I am writing on right now! "Romance of the Forest" is mentioned in "Emma;" remember, when Emma asks Harriet if Mr. Martin has yet taken her advice and read it ... ? *awkward moment for Harriet*! But it all turns out well in the end, everyone lives happily ever after, Emma has much more important things to think about than Mr. Martin ... ! *I heart Mr. Knightley!* Just had to get that in there. Anyway, so a bit of cool background historical literary stuff.
Then, after the Eng Fac, I made my way to the Bod. I love the Bod. Just sayin'. It's a big, imposing building with Latin scrawled across its doorways and creaky old staircases, FILLED with books. Old books, new books, weird books, blue books. And everyone in there seems so intellectual and scholarly. I felt quite small and ignorant without any huge round glasses perched precariously on my nose, or without a leaning tower of books slipping off my desk, or without my matching bowtie and fountain pen set.
I dont have a bowtie. But bowties are cool.
But I did have cool books to read, and fun papers to write, and a nice sort of freshman feeling of "I belong!" even when you really don't ... ? Y'all know what I mean. It's cool.
But I did find a cool book by Marie de France, known for her Lais and courtly romances and French poetry and stuff; she's written this really kind of strange, kind of funny, kind of neat poem (in french) called "St. Patrick's Purgatory," and the story goes that God showed St. Patrick a secret passage to Purgatory - something inbetween Dante's dark wood and the corner rooms in "Clue" ... never mind - and there are people guarding the entrance, and a knight named Owen eventually goes down there and has to resist the temptation of ten different temptations ... which is sort of strange because it's like the devils are tempting him to be punished ... ? I'm not sure, I was sort of just paging through it, I wasn't supposed to be reading it! but in the end, of course he prevails with grace and wins and comes home and lives to tell the tale. So that was neat; what I didn't understand was the connection between Marie de France (who, incidentally, is called that because she comes from France but actually spent time at Henry II and Eleanor's court in England, FYI) and St. Patrick. Or Ireland. Or Purgatory. But it was cool!
Now: making the connection between Jane Austen and the gothic style. I have 12 pages of notes for a 6-8 page paper. MAYBE I should start cutting things down a little ... !
Saturday, October 9, 2010
It's only just begun ...
Today, I spent all day in the library. That is, libraries. It was amazing. :D
I got up early to spend some time in St. Peter's library, which is open 24/7 - the bookworm's proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. When the other libraries started opening up, I headed over to the Taylorian, located right next door to the Ashmolean museum. The Taylorian holds a lot of books on linguistics and languages, including French medieval poetry. I spent some three hours pouring over the amazing Middle French texts of Marie de France's Lais and other such medieval courtly romances. I knew there was a reason for memorizing the future subjunctive!!!! YAY!
Now here's something from "La Chatelaine de Vergy," and it's about this knight, and a lady, and they fall in love ... you know the story. But anyway, the knight is sad, because he's betrayed his one true love - well, it was sort of accidental, and sort of forced, but it was betrayal in the end - and he's all upset because he is in the middle of a dilemma and has to make a choice between two situations - ideally, he'll pick the lesser of two weevils ... but that's another story.
Et tandis qu'il est plonge dans ces pensees,
ne sachant quel parti est le meilleur,
l'eau du coeur lui monte aux yeux,
a cause de l'angoisse qui l'etreint,
et coule sur son visage,
qui en est mouille.
Eh, ok, sorry about the painful grammar; it's all correct letter-wise, but the accents are missing ... and YES, there is a reason to accents, and this is it.
But anyway, essentially, he's crying, but the phrase "l'eau du coeur," water from the heart, which wells up in his eyes and tumbles down his face, was just so beautiful, I had to share :)
Aaaanyway, notes to type, the world to save, and Guilder to frame for it ... SWAMPED.
Talk soon! :)
I got up early to spend some time in St. Peter's library, which is open 24/7 - the bookworm's proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. When the other libraries started opening up, I headed over to the Taylorian, located right next door to the Ashmolean museum. The Taylorian holds a lot of books on linguistics and languages, including French medieval poetry. I spent some three hours pouring over the amazing Middle French texts of Marie de France's Lais and other such medieval courtly romances. I knew there was a reason for memorizing the future subjunctive!!!! YAY!
Now here's something from "La Chatelaine de Vergy," and it's about this knight, and a lady, and they fall in love ... you know the story. But anyway, the knight is sad, because he's betrayed his one true love - well, it was sort of accidental, and sort of forced, but it was betrayal in the end - and he's all upset because he is in the middle of a dilemma and has to make a choice between two situations - ideally, he'll pick the lesser of two weevils ... but that's another story.
Et tandis qu'il est plonge dans ces pensees,
ne sachant quel parti est le meilleur,
l'eau du coeur lui monte aux yeux,
a cause de l'angoisse qui l'etreint,
et coule sur son visage,
qui en est mouille.
Eh, ok, sorry about the painful grammar; it's all correct letter-wise, but the accents are missing ... and YES, there is a reason to accents, and this is it.
But anyway, essentially, he's crying, but the phrase "l'eau du coeur," water from the heart, which wells up in his eyes and tumbles down his face, was just so beautiful, I had to share :)
Aaaanyway, notes to type, the world to save, and Guilder to frame for it ... SWAMPED.
Talk soon! :)
Thursday, October 7, 2010
MY LIFE is BACK!
... well, for all of fourteen hours. But it's gonna be a good fourteen hours. *nods head* uh-huh! Exams DONE! And now I am going to run around the block screaming "caloo, calay!" at all the tourists in the pouring rain ... or is it running in the pouring rain? or screaming ... ? anyway, gonna do it, then eat dinner, then probably spend the rest of the evening doing nothing whatsoever. It's gonna be BRILLIANT!
:D
:D
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Out of the Mouths of Geniuses
And now for a little wisdom from the omniscient Dictator-for-Life Calvin, stuck as a misunderstood genius in a first-grade world.
Fine print: These quotes have no bearing on my present mental or psychological state of being. Really. And they should have no bearing on your mental or psychological state, either. However, were you to read, comprehend, understand, and/or draw parallels between your personal and/or academic and/or work and/or social life and these quotes (see below) the following side effects may and probably will occur: laughing, LOLing, ROTFLing, chuckles, giggles, grins, rolling of the eyes, shaking of the head, slapping of the forehead, frantic emails to me, frantic emails from me, distraction from daily duties - including momentary, temporary, and permanent distractions - immediate urge to contact and share quotes with others, immediate urge to look up quotes, immediate urge to look up new quotes and/or share with others, random quoting of C&H - lasting anywhere from September to March - and the very possible irritation of others around you. Please consider your environment and spread as much C&H as possible.
Enjoy. I do.
*
"I'm just very selective about the reality I choose to accept." -- Calvin
*
"I have plenty of common sense, I just choose to ignore it." -- Calvin
*
"Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in
the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us." -- Calvin
*
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and
inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and
impenetrable fog!" -- Calvin
*
"The only skills I have the patience to learn are those that have no real
application in life." -- Calvin
*
"Why waste time learning, when ignorance is instantaneous?" -- Calvin
*
"Is it a right to remain ignorant?" -- Calvin
*
"Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely
pointless." -- Calvin
*
"Thank you. before I begin, I'd like everyone to notice that my report is in
a professional, clear plastic binder...When a report looks this good, you know
it'll get an A. That's a tip kids. Write it down." -- Calvin
*
Calvin : "I think we have got enough information now, don't you?"
Hobbes : "All we have is one 'fact' that you made up."
Calvin : "That's plenty. By the time we add an introduction, a few
illustrations and a conclusion, it'll look like a graduate thesis."
*
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want." -- Calvin
Fine print: These quotes have no bearing on my present mental or psychological state of being. Really. And they should have no bearing on your mental or psychological state, either. However, were you to read, comprehend, understand, and/or draw parallels between your personal and/or academic and/or work and/or social life and these quotes (see below) the following side effects may and probably will occur: laughing, LOLing, ROTFLing, chuckles, giggles, grins, rolling of the eyes, shaking of the head, slapping of the forehead, frantic emails to me, frantic emails from me, distraction from daily duties - including momentary, temporary, and permanent distractions - immediate urge to contact and share quotes with others, immediate urge to look up quotes, immediate urge to look up new quotes and/or share with others, random quoting of C&H - lasting anywhere from September to March - and the very possible irritation of others around you. Please consider your environment and spread as much C&H as possible.
Enjoy. I do.
*
"I'm just very selective about the reality I choose to accept." -- Calvin
*
"I have plenty of common sense, I just choose to ignore it." -- Calvin
*
"Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in
the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us." -- Calvin
*
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and
inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and
impenetrable fog!" -- Calvin
*
"The only skills I have the patience to learn are those that have no real
application in life." -- Calvin
*
"Why waste time learning, when ignorance is instantaneous?" -- Calvin
*
"Is it a right to remain ignorant?" -- Calvin
*
"Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely
pointless." -- Calvin
*
"Thank you. before I begin, I'd like everyone to notice that my report is in
a professional, clear plastic binder...When a report looks this good, you know
it'll get an A. That's a tip kids. Write it down." -- Calvin
*
Calvin : "I think we have got enough information now, don't you?"
Hobbes : "All we have is one 'fact' that you made up."
Calvin : "That's plenty. By the time we add an introduction, a few
illustrations and a conclusion, it'll look like a graduate thesis."
*
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want." -- Calvin
Never Steal a Book
A bit of wisdom, courtesy a professor, courtesy some dead medieval guy with a bit of a personal vendetta.
He who steals thys boke,
May he dye the deth,
May he be frizzled in a pan...
Not sure the significance of frizzling, or even if there were any pans large enough to hold an individual during the Middle Ages, but I'm pretty sure the message is clear. Crystal.
No touchee. MY BOOK!
He who steals thys boke,
May he dye the deth,
May he be frizzled in a pan...
Not sure the significance of frizzling, or even if there were any pans large enough to hold an individual during the Middle Ages, but I'm pretty sure the message is clear. Crystal.
No touchee. MY BOOK!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Word of the Week! #3
There is no spoon! ... just sayin'.
ONTOLOGICAL
- pertaining to the "philosopical study" of existence, the state of being, definition and meaning of reality, metaphysics. Thank you, Wikipedia, for throwing into my life yet another undefinable definition for some undefinable entity. Try using THAT word iin your everyday conversation ... or listening to people who do!
ONTOLOGICAL
- pertaining to the "philosopical study" of existence, the state of being, definition and meaning of reality, metaphysics. Thank you, Wikipedia, for throwing into my life yet another undefinable definition for some undefinable entity. Try using THAT word iin your everyday conversation ... or listening to people who do!
Saturday, October 2, 2010
That Infernal Man!
How can anyone dislike Dante, particularly D.L.S.' translation of Dante, when there is this much FUN in it???
"As one who wills, and then unwills his will,
Changing his mind with every changing whim,
Till all his best intentions come to nil,
So I stood havering in that moorland dim,
While through fond rifts of fancy oozed away
The first quick zest that filled me to the brim."
LOL. Just do it!
"As one who wills, and then unwills his will,
Changing his mind with every changing whim,
Till all his best intentions come to nil,
So I stood havering in that moorland dim,
While through fond rifts of fancy oozed away
The first quick zest that filled me to the brim."
LOL. Just do it!
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