strange and random happenstance

There are so many confined and staid and uptight and stagy adaptations of Forster's work that it's a breath of fresh air to watch one that has real passion. An adaptation that could move you literally to tears. While there might be those who criticize Andrew Davies's adaptation for playing fast and loose with the storyline, I counter that he cut to the quick of the story and kept that which was vital intact. If you weren't a Forster purist or had never read the books, just watch the old Merchant and Ivory adaptation and then watch this one, it is without a doubt that this version makes a better film. That is what it comes down to in the end, which is the better movie, and this one will always win, even with the weird transfer error of blurred behinds and a lackluster score. What I think made this version work was that, like the book, the integration of Lucy's piano playing as a window to her soul was actually incorporated throughout the movie. Instead of a few set pieces with Helena Bonham Carter rigidly sitting at a piano and obviously not knowing what to do, here Elaine Cassidy throws herself into the music and bares her soul. It is distinctly a plus that you can actually see that she is playing the music, even if the ADR team might have dropped in a more accomplished version later. One can not stress enough that to make a good movie you have to connect with your audience, and this connected with me, with passion and empathy and yes, love, and sometimes it hurts. All the feels in this movie just made it more real, more human, more alive. There's affection and attraction. If you look at the kiss between George and Lucy in the Merchant and Ivory adaptation, it's like watching two people who don't even like each other being yelled at by the director to kiss and they are going to try to stop the inevitable for as long as possible. That kiss is painful to watch. Here, well, the kiss is painful to watch for different reasons. There is abandon and discovery in it. True feeling. True connection. It's joyous. In fact, I would say that is what is at the very center of this adaptation, there is joy. Life is breathed into the story and we connect to it because it's joyous. There's this message that we are to live life now. Live for today. Don't settle, don't do what you think is expected of you. Don't go for the passionless Cecil, go for the man who makes your heart race as he sneaks a kiss behind the bushes. In this version by downplaying Cecil and actually giving George all his lines you actually connect to George in a way Forster wanted you to but was never quite able to accomplish. The speech that George gives to Lucy and Charlotte in the dinning room before he is banished from Windy Corner makes you realize how they are meant to be. I was like Charlotte, in the corner weeping, because this is what love looks like. You fight for it, you make your case, you don't go off like a wounded dog wrapped in a blanket in a carriage.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Room with a View, Andrew Davies, E.M. Forster, Elaine Cassidy, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, George Emerson, Helena Bonham Carter, Italy, Julian Sands, Lucy Honeychurch, Merchant and Ivory, Passion, Piano, Rafe Spall, Score

It always feels odd to me when Masterpiece airs a movie that was a theatrical release. Because they weren't involved in making it so why are they airing it? I mean, there's a cynical side of me that wonders exactly how involved PBS is in any shows that air on Masterpiece aside from giving them money, but that's beside the point. Though this question does arise more and more as the number of shows in a given season of Masterpiece contract while other venues for British television expand. But at least we can say that airing an adaptation of E.M. Forster's first novel is on brand. As is the cast. The problem is that this adaptation had to make an imperfect book into a perfect film. And they partially succeeded. They were able to grasp what Forster was trying and failed to do with his book. The film is a tour de force comedy of manners satirizing societal values. It's an interesting conceit. Because it's like taking the most staid of Masterpiece shows and then filtering it through the lens of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Despite the death and despair, there is never a time when the film takes itself too seriously. The entire thing is done with a nudge and a wink, wherein we, the audience, are in on the joke. We are there to laugh at and make fun of the drawing room foibles of the characters and the petty lives these people live wherein an inlaid box that was "lent" not "given" is more important than anything else. The movie is able to effect these changes from a lackluster book to a fun movie by the simple expedient of streamlining the story and adding a little "movie magic." The movie magic is that instead of showing the deplorable and unseemly side of the Italian town of Monteriano that Forster focused on everything has been covered in pixie dust. Lilia's house isn't a ramshackle affair, it's actually quite nice. The town is picturesque. We see the world through a cinematic haze that makes everything that much nicer. Also by the magic of cinema the language barrier is whisked away. Instead of having laborious misunderstandings everyone seems to magically know what everyone else means. Sure it's a little unrealistic, especially in the case of the ignorant Lilia, but it's expedient and let's the story focus on what is important, Judy Davis as Harriet Herriton. She raised this film to new heights. She knew just how to deliver her lines and knew when a pause or a look would be better than something more dramatic and showy. While this film was made just at the beginning of her ascendancy to independent film darling, the epoch of The Ref being three years in the future, she is the star here. The way she keeps harping on about her lent inlaid box, the way she won't share a conveyance with an overweight woman who turns out to be a famous opera star, her trying to shush the excited audience at the opera, every line, every look, every interaction with her fellow cast shows that she was born to play this role. More than anyone else she understands the humor, though dark, that the film is trying to bring forth from the source material. She "gets" the film and takes the character of Harriet, that is basically a catalyst in the book, and makes her fully three dimensional and so wonderful that you are counting the minutes until she returns to the screen. She is why you watch this film. She is all.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: E.M. Forster, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, Harriet Herriton, Independent Film, Italy, Judy Davis, Monteriano, Movie Magic, Mystery Science Theater 3000, PBS, The Ref, Theatrical Release, Where Angels Fear to Tread

Maurice by E.M. Forster
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1971
Format: Hardcover, 319 Pages
Rating: ★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Maurice Hall leads an unexceptional life. He is neither brilliant nor dense. He is comfortably middle of the road. But ever since his teacher took him aside one day when he was fourteen to tell him about the facts of life, due to Maurice's father being dead, Maurice has known he was different. He felt removed from marriage as being life's goal. He spent years lost in the fog of puberty and adolescence to one day find a hand reaching out of the mist to him making everything clear. That hand belonged to Clive Durham, and Maurice thought that Clive would be the love of his life. Because that is how Maurice is different, he has always been attracted to men, but never known the truth of himself till Clive. They were together throughout their years at Cambridge, Clive introducing him to the world of the Greeks. In fact Clive and Maurice spend several happy years together until one day Clive says that after his recent illness he is no longer attracted to men and now wants to marry and settle down with the woman of his dreams. Maurice doesn't know how to handle this new information. How does going to Rome turn you heterosexual? He is at sea and can only see two ways out, he shall either kill himself or cure himself. Perhaps hypnotism is the answer? A doctor whom he visits says he has a fifty percent success rate. Though it's clear that Maurice can not cure who he is. Yet little does he realize that perhaps Clive wasn't the love of his life. Perhaps life can go on without Clive. Biting the bullet and visiting Clive and his new wife at the ancestral pile, Penge, Maurice meets an insolent young under-gamekeeper, Alec Scudder, who answers Maurice's cry of need in the night. But does Alec spell ruin or redemption for Maurice? Either way, it spells the end of the comfortable suburban life he has been living till now. Because who knows if homosexual relationships, true human nature, will ever be accepted in England.

Maurice was written right before the outbreak of WWI yet was never published during Forster's lifetime. A select group of friends read it and passed it around between them but Forster didn't seem to think that it was worth it to publish the book during his lifetime. This is of course due to the public perception of homosexuality combined with his book having a happy ending. It would have been obscene libel and might have gone the way of Lady Chatterley's Lover. But there's a part of me that really wishes he had published it. To have an established author release a book that was a homosexual love story might have shaken up the society of the time and deservedly so. It shows two different, yet loving, homosexual relationships between consenting adults. I can't help but wonder if Maurice was published earlier, if more authors of the time showed that this is just human nature, that maybe, just maybe, acceptance would be more prolific. And perhaps it wouldn't have taken until 1967 to decriminalise homosexual acts in private between consenting adults. The publication of Maurice being delayed made it an odd duck. It felt like it's time had already been and gone, missing the boat completely. Not to mention that the execution is lackluster with Maurice almost being a caricature. And yet it was so refreshing to find characters who just accepted who they were. Clive Durham never denied that he preferred men. Never. From his youngest yearnings he was honest with himself and his honesty let Maurice realize his own truth, that he too had always been only attracted to men. But was Forster really advocating for being openly in love? Maurice tells Alec that two against the world can do anything. Well, to me, that means to live in defiance of society, to take on the world. To Maurice it means to retire from society and hide in the greenwood like actual fairies. WHAT!?! I thought two against the world can do anything? So true love is acceptable only by complete removal from the society that is trying to conform them? The choice offered here isn't really a choice. You can make yourself an outcast, and let society win, or conform with society and let society win. Don't you get it? Love wins!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Alec Scudder, Cambridge, Clive Durham, E.M. Forster, Homosexuality, Human Nature, Hypnotism, Lady Chatterley's Lover, Love, Maurice, Maurice Hall, Obscene Libel, Posthumous, Pride, Rome, Sexual Offences Act 1967, WWI

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Published by: Max Press
Publication Date: 1811
Format: Hardcover, 368 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Elinor is pragmatic about the death of their father. They have lost their home and they will find a new one and carry on. Her younger sister Marianne has opted for another approach, misery exponentially increased by any dear memory of her father and the beloved house they all shared. Their mother is perfectly happy wallowing with Marianne while watching her step-son and his odious wife Fanny destroy Norland Park, that is until that odious Fanny insinuates that Elinor isn't good enough for her brother Edward Ferrars and Mrs. Dashwood can not remove them fast enough from Fanny's presence. Thanks to kind relations they are able to leave the odious Fanny behind and settle at Barton Cottage, part of Barton Park were Mrs. Dashwood's cousin, Sir John Middleton, resides. There they have a new social circle of relatives and friends, from a Colonel Brandon to a certain Lucy Steele, who might just destroy Elinor's heart unknowingly. Marianne is drawn to one person in particular, Willoughby. Willoughby is the same in all her sensibilities and they are soon as thick as thieves and their engagement is expected to be announced daily, much to Colonel Brandon's dismay. Yet the announcement never comes and Willoughby takes off to London and they hear no more from him. If only Elinor understood where Marianne and Willoughby stood she feels like she could help her sister, but she is in the dark. So when Sir John's mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings, invites the two girls to accompany her to London Marianne jumps at the chance, while Elinor views it as an opportunity to get at the truth even if she'd rather stay at home. But London will be a proving ground for the young girls' hearts. Will either of them find a happily ever after or are their hearts destined to be forever broken by their first loves?

It seems odd to me that in a high school that actually had a good English department where I read many classics I never read any Jane Austen. By the friends I made through various bizarre and arcane clubs I was introduced to her via the Colin Firth miniseries in February of my senior year. This was on my level, being more into films than books at the tender age of seventeen. It was the perfect bridge from one art form to another. At that time I was adamant that I wasn't going to college in the fall, and I in fact didn't, but that didn't mean I was averse to learning and reading and I took it upon myself that summer to acquaint myself with the classics, many of which had been made into films starring Emma Thompson. She was a powerful bridge to Austen and also to Forster. The summer of 1996 was spent on my side porch reading classics I never thought I would ever pick up. Though it was to Austen I felt the most visceral a connection. Sense and Sensibility was the first book of hers that I read and I remember towards the end reading it in my bedroom because of the copious sobbing that accompanied my reading. When Edward arrived at Barton cottage to declare his freedom and his desire to marry Elinor, I just sat in my window crying. I never knew a book could do this to me. I was forever converted to Austen and through her I found a love of classics. Though this book now makes me feel a tad old. When I first read Sense and Sensibility I was the same age as Marianne is for most of the story but now I'm older than the flannel waistcoat wearing Colonel at 35 and Mrs. Dashwood at about 40. Which gave me an "oh dear" moment. I am OLDER than Colonel Brandon who was thought too old for love! I will just have to remember, Austen shows us that love can happen at any age, along with the copious weeping.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Age, Colin Firth, Colonel Brandon, E.M. Forster, Elinor Dashwood, Emma Thompson, High School, Jane Austen, London, Marianne Dashwood, Miniseries, Mrs. Dashwood, Regency Romp, Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby

The Dark Heart of Florence by Tasha Alexander
Published by: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: March 9th, 2021
Format: Hardcover, 320 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Yes, it has been inconvenient trying to incorporate Colin's recently revealed daughter into their lives, but Emily is trying her best, despite appearances, or more rightly, accusations, that she let a dead body end up in her step-daughters bed. It's not like the bed was being occupied by anyone other than the corpse! Colin's ex, Kristiana von Lange, left their daughter a palazzo in Florence. A palazzo which is reputed to have a hidden treasure secreted in the walls and has been the target of a string of burglaries. This has come to the attention of Colin's shadowy superiors and he has been asked to investigate, discreetly. This means he heads off to Florence with Emily and her friend Cécile in tow making it look like a holiday when really they are to meet up with Colin's colleague Darius Benton-Stone. And Emily really is supposed to be viewing the excursion as a holiday, because Colin can not tell her all the real reasons Florence is important at this moment, but what is she to do when a body just lands at her feet? And no, this isn't the body in the bed, that's later. This is a body that fell off the roof into the courtyard AT HER FEET! The poor corpse is known. He was one of the palazzo's servants. Which makes the case even more interesting. All the servants were carefully picked by Kristiana and therefore aren't your typical servants. But thankfully, like servants everywhere, they are open to a little gossip. Which leads Emily to look into the rumors of the treasure... and the more she looks, the more plausible it seems, but also the more dangerous it becomes. There are corpses of treasure hunters littered in the wake of the rumor. If Emily isn't careful she or someone she loves could be next.

Lady Emily's latest adventure is a breathtaking tale combing the literary heart of The Name of the Rose with the history of The Birth of Venus and a dash of the love letter to Florence that is A Room with a View. I almost feel like what I'm about to say is sacrilege because it is such a classic, but suck it E.M. Forster, A Room with a View is no longer my favorite book set in Florence. Yes, I'm a sucker for murder mysteries solved by a certain Lady Emily, but it's more than that, I felt more connected to Florence as a whole than to just one character's experiences of Florence. This wasn't filtered through the eyes of Lucy Honeychurch, and while you could argue, isn't this filtered through the eyes of Lady Emily? I'd disagree, because Emily is a more reliable narrator, plus the inclusion of a secondary voice from the past lends a more rounded portrait of the city and it's history. So now that I've offended all you Forster lovers, without even ranting about Howards End, let's get back to the most important part of what I said, and that's Florence. I've said this before about Tasha's writing, but it bears repeating, I don't just love Tasha's work for her work, I love her work for how much it connects me back to other things I've loved. She's the center of a mind map that connected me while reading this book to my love of the kitschy Da Vinci's Demons, which was set in Florence, and most importantly to my love of art history. Art history and the Renaissance is more about Florence than you can imagine if you've never studied it. It is literally where the Renaissance started! So to study one you must study the other and because of that I have this big old soft spot for Florence. Tasha brought me back to my first love of the city and made it even more unforgettable. The truth is the whole Lady Emily series combines my love of art and literature, making me agree with Mena about what treasure really is.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Room with a View, Colin Hargreaves, Da Vinci's Demons, E.M. Forster, Lady Emily, Palazzo, Renaissance, Tasha Alexander, The Birth of Venus, The Dark Heart of Florence, The Name of the Rose, Treasure

Murder, Magic and What We Wore by Kelly Jones
Published by: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: September 19th, 2017
Format: Hardcover, 304 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Miss Annis Whitworth has spent the majority of her life reading gossip columns and advising her friends on what to wear. Her only worries have been the strain her Aunt Cassia is putting on the postal service with her voluminous correspondence and when she might see her father again because he is almost constantly abroad for work. When her father's man of business, Mr. Harrington, arrives one day a rather cryptic greeting reveals that Annis will never see her father again, he has died and left his daughter and his sister destitute. They were completely dependent on his military half-pay and now have nothing, not even his silver pocket watch with his wife's portrait was recovered, only two handkerchiefs which Annis embroidered for his birthday. That watch is an item which could come in handy what with their scarcity of funds, as could access to her father's overseas accounts. Cassia though is practical and has spent her life raising Annis with very unique life lessons in an attempt to make her more self-reliant. Therefore Annis will embrace the horror of shapeless ready-made black mourning gowns and a possible life of employment. Yet Annis knew something about her father she didn't know if it was polite to mention... he was a spy. In fact the handkerchiefs recovered conceal a coded message and she knows that she needs to get them into the hands of the War Office because her father might have died for this intelligence and was possibly murdered for it.

Though Annis shudders to be seen in the black bombazine! Therefore a little tailoring prior to visiting the War Office is necessary... tailoring that her new maid, Millicent O'Leary, points out is actually magic! The best seamstress can't change bombazine to brocade! This gives Annis an idea. What if the War Office could use her skills? What if they need a glamour artist? Then her and Aunt Cassia's life needn't be completely uprooted. A "Mr. Smith" though quickly shuts down Annis's daydreams and instead she must face the bleak future that Cassia is laying out for them, including a trip to an employment agency! Annis would literally chose any future but this, even marrying a man who wears horrid waistcoats! It is Millicent who puts forth the idea of Annis becoming a dressmaker. Though Aunt Cassia and her helpful friend Miss Spencer agree that this would be beyond the pale. Annis would lose her reputation and would never recover. But what if this little experiment were done outside of London and in disguise? A new plan is formed, against Cassia's better judgment. They are to relocate to Flittingsworth, a small town between London and Dover, where Miss Spencer has her own shop, and so soon shall "Madame Martine" the glamour artist! But will Annis have the time to maintain two identities, get all Madame Martine's work done, and solve her father's murder? Perhaps with a little magic.

Murder, Magic and What We Wore is a wonderful addition to the Regency Magic genre. Somehow it complies to all the rules of the genre while simultaneously taking all the building blocks and turning them on their head. Instead of finding a worthy husband when finding herself destitute Annis finds a purpose in an occupation she excels at while sneakily maintaining that ever important reputation. While being the biggest fan of Jane Austen it is a bit depressing that every book is about putting a ring on it. That wasn't a viable option for many women and the whole point about Regency Magic is taking this framework that Austen bequeathed us and making it something more. Yet time and time again while creating this wonderful genre all the stories at the end of the day end with matrimony. As Kelly Jones herself said on my blog "I was craving a Regency fantasy that wasn't a romance. I love romance, but I also love stories about work, and family, and friendship, and responsibilities. I wanted to read about a girl who was too busy with other things to fall in love" and how little did I realize I wanted it too! While there is a possible suitor with Mr. Harrington, he's off to the side, in Annis's rear view mirror. Sure one day she might have time for him, but not right now. Now is Annis's time to shine, to show the world what she can do, not as someone's significant other, but just as herself, for the first time. And Annis is magnificent, and with Aunt Cassia and Millicent we have a comedy of manners that sometimes edges into a level of farce only Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers were capable of.

Yet the humor never detracts from this females first theme that is carried into every aspect of this book. Yes, it might be shocking for some to realize that women can be funny and kick ass at the same time but I defy them to read this book and not come to this conclusion. While being set in 1818 this book is oddly timely with the #MeToo movement. The truth of the matter is #MeToo was a long time coming. Especially in any time period where there are oppressed classes there is a chance for some scum to take advantage. Here it is a rather odious man who happens to be the nephew of a Lady Prippingforth who Millicent worked for, and his habit of taking what he wants from female staff is deplorable. Millie was thankfully spared because he locked her in a cupboard to "save for later" and was able to escape, but many many others weren't so lucky. It just so happens that he is in Flittingsworth and sees Millie and continues his reign of terror. Once Cassia hears of this she helps Millie and Annis learn how to protect themselves from such attacks. If you're a fan of the film Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, you know that visceral thrill seeing Lizzy Bennett kick ass. Instead of a well placed gaze to show disgust, Millie can now take him down with a well placed knife. This pro female empowerment in a time period when you don't usually think of it as such is magnificent. Get that rapist out! The truth is a timely tale can be set anywhen, so long as the message is still relevant.

At the heart of this female empowerment is Cassia. While she is very clever to maintain the outward appearance of a very respectable maiden aunt, through her charitable work and her lessons imparted to her niece you grow to love this modern woman who is able to work within the system and get it to work to her advantage. I couldn't help drawing comparisons to another strong female character in literature, that of Margaret Schlegel of Howards End. While separated by almost a hundred years with Margaret firmly in Edwardian not Georgian England they both have the same animating spirit. Here are two women who believe in expanding their minds through literature and music. They have cultural pursuits, humanitarian pursuits, they believe in thinking and speaking and saying what's on their mind while still understanding discretion. They feel deeply yet are able to keep that stiff upper lip. It's very rare to find a complete connection to a character in literature, especially one that lives in another time. You might see a shifting reflection of yourself but never fully understand them. In all Austen's canon I most connect to Elinor and Fanny, but still I have moments where I diverge. The first time I read Howards End by E.M. Forster though, it was like Margaret and I were one. Murder, Magic and What We Wore let me have that experience all over again with Cassia. Maybe I'm not one hundred percent like her, but I want to be, and having that kind of role model, perhaps Cassia can make me a better person.

While there is so much that I love about this book, from how the theme of female employment perfectly melds with the magical system to how Millie starts to channel her inner Cato Fong, there is one thing I felt was underdeveloped, and that's the villainous shenanigans that follow on the heels of the murder of Annis's father. Unlike many Regency Magic books Kelly Jones nails the history, so that isn't were my issues reside. My quibbles are that all this spycraft doesn't really stand on it's own, it's like a shaky house of cards, you try to analyze it too closely and it collapses. Napoleon is trapped on Elba, first this person on this boat is going to free him, than this other person on this other boat is, too many changes with a slew of people whose names I can not for the life of me remember from one second to the next. It's a confusing profusion of underlings. Whereas the Big Bad was too obvious. I read another review that said the villain was so irredeemably evil that they almost became a caricature. I wouldn't say it that harshly... but, that reviewer had a point. Either hide the puppet master a little more efficiently, or straighten out the ranks of his organization so that they do the heavy lifting and he can more easily hide in plain sight. I do like my Napoleonic spycraft, but the wonderful madcap infectious fun of the rest of the book isn't brought to bear on this rather important piece of the puzzle. We know the what, we know the why, we just get muddled along the way but thankfully it's handily resolved and I await another installment in Annis's adventures!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: #MeToo, E.M. Forster, Glamour, Howards End, Kelly Jones, Margaret Schlegel, Murder Magic and What We Wore, Napoleon, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Regency, Regency Magic, Romance, Seamstress, Spies, Spycraft

A Room with a View by E.M. Forster
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1908
Format: Hardcover, 319 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Lucy Honeychurch and her cousin Miss Charlotte Barlett have arrived in Florence, but their rooms in the Pension Bertolini do not have the promised for views, instead overlooking a rather insalubrious alleyway. Overhearing their dilemma at the dinner table, the rather forward Emersons, a father and son, offer them their rooms. Miss Barlett thinks this is beyond proper, but the good Reverend Mr. Beebe says there could be nothing wrong with their accepting the offer. It might have been put indelicately, but it is a beautiful gesture. So Lucy and Charlotte get their views. They also get a lot more than they bargained for with the eclectic denizens of the pension, who all seem to have taken a dislike to the Emersons. One day Lucy ventures forth with a female writer, Miss Lavish, who soon deserts her and Lucy takes up with the Emersons. She doesn't understand everyone's dislike of them, they seem quite nice, if a little outspoken. There will be two incidences with the younger Emerson, George, before she leaves Florence. Both will shake her, one might forever change her heart. But back in England Lucy finds herself reverting to who she was prior to Italy. Boring and conventional. She becomes engaged to Cecil Vyse. Her and Cecil have known each other for years. Their alliance is expected, even inevitable. Until Cecil does something silly and it brings the Emersons back into Lucy's life. She can not deny what happened with George. But can she put it behind her, marry Cecil, and just get on with her life? Or will her life take an unexpected turn and embrace the passion she found awakening in Italy?

The first time I read A Room with a View I was not much older than Lucy Honeychurch. I experienced Italy for the first time in her footsteps and was enchanted. In fact, I think this book would make a lovely companion piece to an art history class because of the reverence it has for art and history. But for all that is right in Italy, there is much flawed back in England. Re-reading this book all these years later, while I might not identify as strongly anymore with Lucy, I still feel the flaw in the ending. It isn't that I object to Lucy and George ending up together, they obviously belong with each other. I object to the fact that as soon as Cecil has been kicked to the curb the ending is just thrust at us and the book is over. Just because the ending is inevitable doesn't mean I don't want to read the steps inbetween Mr. Emerson ferreting the truth out of Lucy and Lucy and George eloping. It almost feels as if the book has been expurgated and we're missing all this story that should be there. Did Forster feel unequal to the task or did he just grow bored with the story? Plus why is Lucy's family mad at her about the elopement? They seem the type of family who would champion love and yet they aren't talking to her over her marriage? WHY? Plus we never get to really see Lucy and George as a couple. We know far more about Cecil then we do about George and I feel that George needed to be made less of an enigma. Give us more of a reason to love him than that he is not Cecil, which I will admit does strongly recommend him. I just feel that this struggle that Lucy has been facing of her life in a muddle which she has finally broken free of is nullified by the quagmire that the ending is. And this isn't even addressing those editions that include the epilogue. Seriously, if you want to be quickly jaded about life and the inevitability of human nature to destroy all that is good, look up the epilogue. At least there is one thing I can agree with Forster about the ending, omit that epilogue. Too bad he wasn't successful enough with getting it fully excised like he was with the epilogue for Maurice.

While I lack the open eyed naivety I had when younger, though to a lesser degree than most, there is still something about being caught up in new experiences and new ways of seeing things which is at the heart of A Room with a View. Expanding your mind and letting these new ideas sweep over you. If you can capture just a bit of that opening up that Lucy experiences, you will be the better for it. The idea that struck me most this reading was the idea of doing something beautifully or doing something delicately. When the Emersons offer Lucy and Charlotte their rooms in the pension, it isn't a delicate gesture but it is a beautiful one. Society might even think it a little outre for the ladies to accept the offer, which is why Charlotte dithers about the idea. But the gesture is done because it is right, because it is beautiful, because it's their hearts desires to have "a room with a view" even if they won't admit it to themselves or the Emersons. I think this hits on something that is a universal truth in our society. On the whole, we do what is right, what is proper, what is acceptable. We donate to the set charities, we support the right causes, we don't make a stir. But what if instead we did what was right in our very bones? Grand gestures that might not be politically correct but that have heart and beauty in them? Bring something good into the world, not because it's what is expected, but because it is unexpected. Little or big gestures, something every day. What would the world turn into if every day someone did something beautiful for another human being? It would be a kind of grace.

But to know what is beauty versus what is delicate you need to know yourself. That is where the younger me really latched onto Lucy and her journey. She is just starting out to see the world and to come to terms with who she is and what she wants out of life. She is looking at art and trying to decide whether she likes it or whether she is supposed to like it. She is trying to see what kind of people she should surround herself with. To her the Emersons are good people, yet to others they are uncouth. Who is right? What is her opinion? Most people struggle with these concepts all their lives. They don't know who they are or that they are constantly changing and evolving. Lucy gets easily muddled. She gets swept up into events and situations that she doesn't know how she got there or how to get out of. Can you imagine actually going to Greece on a moments notice with people you don't really like just to avoid one person? I actually kind of can. How many times has this happened to me? Not Greece in particular, but countless other trips or jobs or changes in routines. I have spent too much time doing one thing to avoid another and getting muddled beyond hope. To be young and impressionable again, I don't think I could stand that. But there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Something that will form you, be it art or literature, or in Lucy's case, music. Little does she know that it is in how she plays music that she is baring her soul. Forster himself puts it so eloquently: "Does it seem reasonable that she should play so wonderfully, and live so quietly? I suspect that one day she will be wonderful in both. The water-tight compartments in her will break down, and music and life will mingle." And that is when she will rise above the muddle and know who she is.

Which all brings me to why I dislike Cecil so much. It's not that he's a prig and pretentious and hates all the good in people and just wants everyone to suffer so he can laugh at them, though that is all true. I dislike Cecil because he uses Lucy's muddle to his advantage. She doesn't know what she wants out of life and therefore Cecil uses her impressionability to try to mold her into who he wants to marry. He cares not for her family or her friends, they are all fodder for him. He isn't delicate or beautiful in his gestures, rather thwarting everyone and spitting in the eyes of all. As Lucy points out, his declining to do something as simple as make a four for tennis would make everyone happy, yet he takes pleasure in denying them this and then interrupting their game with dramatic readings from bad novels. He doesn't even really see Lucy. He sees her as an ideal. A painting that will perfectly adorn his life and that he can force into a mold. Whenever she really shows any glimmer of her true self Cecil thinks she is joking, because this isn't what he had envisioned. Cecil is a despicable human being who isn't worthy to be slim on my shoes, and yet he serves the purpose of the moment. In one moment he is the shield for Lucy to keep George at bay. In another moment he is the reason George is her soulmate. Because, as I've mentioned before, George isn't really explored as a character, he is perfect for Lucy because he is everything Cecil is not. George lets Lucy find out who she is, lets her make her own decisions, because he is the anti-Cecil and the man for Lucy.

The one character though that I find the most interesting is Miss Charlotte Bartlett. She is the stock character of literature, the spinster who is always concerned with propriety, appearances, and not being an inconvenience, while being the exact opposite. Seeing as Forster is such a fan of Austen you can easily see her ancestor in Emma and Miss Bates. As I get older I relate to these characters more and more. No, it's not my descent into spinsterhood and the eventual owning of a cat army, it's that these characters, with all their flaws, are the most human, the most sympathetic. Despite how many times while reading A Room with a View you might want to smack Charlotte, unlike Emma Woodhouse and her smack down of Miss Bates, you could never do such a thing because you pity her. The highlight of her life is how by saving Lucy from the advances of George she has actually given herself relevancy to someone she cares deeply for. Yes, it's exasperating and pitiful, but in her own way she is being proper and delicate and helpful. Yet, it's her beautiful gestures at the end that transforms her into someone who is to be more then just pitied. Lucy's mother hints at how much Lucy is like Charlotte, which Lucy rebels against. But Charlotte gives Lucy a chance, something which she probably never had. She doesn't warn Lucy about Mr. Emerson's being at the rectory, though she knew. It is through Lucy and Mr. Emerson meeting there that Lucy and George end up together. Though Charlotte denies knowing of his presence, it is my opinion that she decided to do something beautiful. She lied to facilitate love. She let Lucy have a chance at happiness, despite all her previous attempts to thwart it, propriety be damned.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Room with a View, Beauty, Cecil Vyse, E.M. Forster, Emma Woodhouse, Epilogue, Florence, Forster Fall, George Emerson, Italy, Jane Austen, Lucy Honeychurch, Maurice, Miss Bartlett, Miss Bates, Muddle, Sweet Reads

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Published by: Max Press
Publication Date: 1811
Format: Hardcover, 368 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Elinor is pragmatic about the death of their father. They have lost their home and they will find a new one and carry on. Her younger sister Marianne has opted for another approach, misery exponentially increased by any dear memory of her father and the beloved house they all shared. Their mother is perfectly happy wallowing with Marianne while watching her step-son and his odious wife Fanny destroy Norland Park, that is until that odious Fanny insinuates that Elinor isn't good enough for her brother Edward and Mrs. Dashwood can not remove them fast enough from Norland Park. Thanks to kind relations they are able to leave the odious behind and settle at Barton Cottage, part of Barton Park were Mrs. Dashwood's cousin Sir John Middleton resides. There they have a new social circle of relatives and friends and Marianne is drawn to one in particular, Willoughby. Willoughy is the same in all her sensibilities and they are soon as thick as thieves and their engagement is expected to be announced daily, much to Colonel Brandon's dismay. Yet the announcement never comes and Willoughby takes off to London and they hear no more from him. So when Sir John's mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings, invites the two girls to accompany her to London Marianne jumps at the chance. But London will be a proving ground for the young girls hearts. Will either of them find a happily ever after or are their hearts destined to be forever broken by their first loves?

It seems odd to me that in a high school that actually had a good English department where I read many classics I never read any Jane Austen. By the friends I made through various bizarre and arcane clubs I was introduced to her via the Colin Firth miniseries in February of my senior year. This was on my level, being more into films than books at the tender age of seventeen, it was the perfect bridge from one art form to another. At that time I was adamant that I wasn't going to college in the fall, and I in fact didn't, but that doesn't mean I was averse to learning and reading and I took it upon myself that summer to acquaint myself with the classics, many of which had been made into films starring Emma Thompson. She was a powerful bridge to Austen and also to Forster, though the most powerful of all was anything to do with Monty Python. The summer of 1996 was spent on my side porch reading classics I never thought I would ever pick up. Though it was to Austen I felt the most visceral a connection. Sense and Sensibility was the first book of hers that I read and I remember towards the end reading it in my bedroom because of the copious sobbing that accompanied my reading. When Edward arrived at Barton cottage to declare his freedom and his desire to marry Elinor, I just sat in my window sobbing. I never knew a book could do this to me. I was forever converted to Austen and through her I found the love of classics that my family always wished for me.

Do to what is happening in my life at the moment I've been feeling old. Which might account for why I noticed the characters ages so much on this reading of Sense and Sensibility. When I first read this book I was the same age as Marianne is for most of the story so I could feel a kinship with her and totally identify to being that age, even if I like to think of myself more as Elinor. As I've grown older I've still felt that kinship, that connection, but never internalized the ages of the characters as a did on that first reading. Marianne and Elinor are young, Colonel Brandon and Mrs. Dashwood are old. Or so I've always thought. For the first time ever I noticed their ages. The flannel waistcoat wearing Colonel is 35 and Mrs. Dashwood is about 40. Which gave me an "oh dear" moment. I am OLDER than Colonel Brandon who was thought too old for love and closing in fast on Mrs. Dashwood. Yes, I could say that obviously people married younger in Regency times because the life expectancy was shorter, but I literally have friends I went to high school with with kids in college. If my life had taken an entirely different and unexpected route I am old enough to have an Elinor and Marianne and Margaret of my own! So needless to say I felt myself on this realization seeing things more from the "elderly" point of view. Oh, Colonel Brandon, you are a youngin...

Comparing Sense and Sensibility to Austen's other work is interesting in that despite having a plethora of female characters to root for she usually has one heroine, an Emma or a Lizzy, yet here she has two. Given that one is so reserved and the other so melodramatic it's as if she's split her heroine in half. Yes, we could analyze that her book originally necessitated two leads because it was written in epistolary fashion before being dramatically changed in the edits, but I think it's more fascinating to look at this in the classical sense, as in Plato's Symposium. Mary Shelley was strongly influenced by Aristophanes' myth of primal man being cut in two necessitating two beings that need each other because they originally were one when writing Frankenstein. Who's to say that Austen wasn't as well. Some reviewers note that as the book progresses Austen isn't sure which personality aspect she wants to win the day. Should Elinor and her logic or Marianne and her emotion get the HEA? I don't see this. I think that while yes, Elinor's ending might be more satisfying, they both get the endings that Austen intended all along. But what's more important is that each learns valuable lessons from the other, who they need. Marianne needs some of Elinor's grounding, while Elinor needs to not bury her emotions so deep. If they were one we'd have the perfect heroine. But perfect heroines are overrated, I need mine with some flaws so I can root for them.

But just having people to root for isn't nearly as fun as having someone to root against. Lucy Steele is that person. What's interesting is that each time I read this book I get a different take on Lucy. Obviously you can't NOT hate her, she's keeping Elinor and Edward from their HEA. But there's so many different faces to Lucy, the fake friend, the gold digger, the manipulator. She's ambitious and jealous and won't take no for an answer. I mean just the way she controls Elinor with her confession of her secret attachment to Edward! Gaw, she should die for that. Oh, let me destroy all your faith in the man you love AND make you suffer in silence because you're such a good person you'd never tell another soul! And then as a parting blow, let her think I married Edward and not his brother, ta! Yet for all that one thing that Edward and Elinor always remarked on didn't seem that much of an issue to me, and that is Lucy's lack of an education. Yes, it meant she was limited, but it wasn't until this reading that I really caught how stupid she is. Her speech is grammatically incorrect and her overuse of the word "was" is just annoying and wrong. I think the reason this had never struck me before is that if you haven't read Austen, well, it's kind of like Shakespeare in that you have to get into the groove of the writing style. So obviously when I first read it I wouldn't have picked up on it. All the other readings, well, I wasn't the grammar Nazi I am now. So this time? Oh Lucy, I hate you for a whole slew of new reasons.

Yet the character that I hate the most is Willoughby. And this is a hate that has grown over time. I remember when I first saw Emma Thompson's adaptation of Sense and Sensibility I felt cheated that she didn't keep the scene where he "redeems" himself. He really wasn't that bad in my mind. Now I can see why she didn't, he doesn't deserve ANY redemption. The reason is all in his seduction of Eliza. Reading this book for the first time at 17 an unwanted pregnancy didn't seem that horrific. In fact, they were kind of popularized by movies like For Keeps? Interesting fact, it was filmed here in Madison, Wisconsin. OK, Molly Ringwald and her ironically Darcy named heroine aside, I just didn't think it was a big deal having a baby. Because I didn't understand Regency England. Colonel Brandon's ward having a baby out of wedlock is the worst thing that could happen to any woman. To be seduced and left with a parting gift that would arrive nine months later is the most vile thing I man can do, especially to a well bred woman, and even more especially when he could have just paid a prostitute. It was the game of destroying her that made if more fun, no matter what he said after the fact about her TOTALLY having his address, because he could have made it right! Once discovered by his benefactress he could have married Eliza and made everything right in the world. Instead he marries an heiress and regrets not marrying Marianne and never gives another thought to Eliza. He deserves NO FORGIVENESS! NONE AT ALL! If this book has one flaw it's that Austen feels a little bad for him. She wrote him that way, she can't now apologize for it!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Aging, Bicentenary Ball, Colin Firth, E.M. Forster, Emma Thompson, Frankenstein, Heroine, Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, Molly Ringwald, Monty Python, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Published by: Everyman's Library
Publication Date: 1985
Format: Hardcover, 350 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Offred once had a husband. She once had a daughter. She once had a different name. But the United States fell. It feel so fast that it's hard to remember what it was like. There was a constitution, there were rights, but they were suspended. Women who could reproduce became a valuable commodity. They were rounded up and distributed to the ruling elite. Offred is a handmaid to her Commander. Hopefully, God willing, she will provide him with an heir. It's best not to think what would happen if she's unable to conceive. She has her daily routine, shopping for the household as a way to be useful and keep herself healthy for reproductive purposes, and lots of time to think on all that she has lost and the little she has. The room with the bed and the desk and the window. The room with the carving from it's previous occupant, the previous Offred: "Nolite te bastardes carborundorum." Yet soon Offred's life starts to change. The Commander has a shrewish wife who used to be televangelist and now does nothing by garden and knit and long for the baby Offred will give her. This has distanced the couple and the Commander feels a void, a void he fills by inviting Offred to come into his study. At first they only play Scrabble, a wordy luxury to Offred. Soon she is given magazines and moisturizer. She knows she's playing a deadly game, if she were to be caught, if his wife were to find out... but "his wife" found out once before when she first met her husband Luke... But when the Commander invites Offred to a "special club" she can't help but notice the hypocrisy. Yet there is also hope. Yes, there is an easy way out, a way the other Offred took, but perhaps she can find another way...

If you're an avid book reader there are books that everyone just assumes you've read. Certain classics that make up the bedrock of the literary world. If you actually admit that the only Dickens you've dabbled in is a perfunctory reading of A Christmas Carol and that you prefer the movie version with Mickey the Mouse they might throw you out of the club. Of course it's not that I don't have these classics by the titans of the literary world, it's that I've just never gotten around to reading them. There are A LOT of books in the world and my "to be read" pile is so staggering it could possibly crush me to death if it was to fall on me, so I hope I'll be forgiven for slowly getting around to these classics. This is one of the reasons for my "theme months." They give me a focus. That month I'll tackle E.M. Forster and get around to reading all his work. Or those months I'll do nothing but indulge in Sherlock Holmes. This way I create content for my blog while getting myself to read the books that are de rigueur. One book that's been languishing was The Handmaid's Tale. Yes, yes, I know, it's been a long time coming, but see above! I can easily see why this book is a Classic with a capital "C." I read this book almost two months ago but it's still with me. I can't help thinking about it all the time. I think waiting to read The Handmaid's Tale until now gave the book more impact. In fact, at the moment reading any dystopian literature makes it seem eerily prescient and also, in some way, a rebellion. These books are a how to not end up in the same situation. You can see the correlations yet see how you can revolt! I can easily see the government oppressing women to this extent because every day there's some new and crazy legislation trying to take away our rights. But we have to fight. We have to keep ourselves informed. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum!

What's interesting about The Handmaid's Tale is that our heroine Offred is unlikable. I know you might not agree with my opinion, she's oppressed, trapped, ritually raped, she is a sympathetic character in regard to her situation, but her situation and who she is are two separate things and I just don't like her. In the "present" tense I don't like her because she's very passive, she's willing to embrace the end if she can't take it anymore, she doesn't fight, she doesn't initiate change or outright rebellion. Yes, you could say to me that by surviving and getting her story, the story of all those like her, out into the world is a rebellion, but again, her escape wasn't of her own doing, she just took it. Likewise if the escape had never presented itself she would have just stayed put. But through her we do hear the stories of interesting and likeable characters, Ofglen, Moira, and others. Women who obviously didn't make it out and who, while they might have had more interesting lives, still, at the heart, lived the same life as Offred. But this is all the "present" it's Offred's past that I have issues with, that made me not like her. She was an adulterer who waited in hotel rooms for years waiting for Luke to divorce his wife and marry her. Yes, I know this situation takes two to tango, but I just can't like her because it makes me feel like condoning cheaters. And while yes, Luke and Offred might have been "meant to be" the way they got there just doesn't sit right with me and therefore makes me dislike Offred. Again, you might be saying what she's gone through should wipe the slate clean, but the thing is, who someone is deep down, what they do informs everything, and while I can pity her I can never like her. Like that bully at school who always picks on you, you might learn what made him that way but does it make it any better when he's still attacking you?

Then there's the odd narrative structure. Yes, it's first person and tends to flow backwards and forwards with Offred's memories and associations and her desire to escape her life into the story of one of her friends, but this inner monologue doesn't help you come to terms with the lack of forward momentum. The Handmaid's Tale is structured in such a way that it's one step forward and two steps back. Every time a plot development seems about to break Offred retreats into her reveries that just stops the narrative momentum in its tracks. At times you even forget what the next plot reveal you were waiting for was. She heavy-handedly keeps talking about the ceremony wherein she copulates with her Commander and yet we have to wait 109 pages until we learn what that ceremony is! And that ceremony is mentioned right at the start of the book! I couldn't help thinking over and over again "just get on with it!" I've said to a few people who were interested in what I thought of this book that I think it's a book that would be better the second time you read it. I stand by this statement. Because after you've read it once you know what happens next so the excruciating wait for certain reveals wouldn't annoy you. After awhile, knowing that the narrative was so drawn out I found myself less and less likely to pick up the book to grab a chapter or two before bed. Books take me, on average, about a week to read as I read at speaking pace. The Handmaid's Tale took me almost three weeks to read, which is almost unheard of for me. Because it's not a long book, and it's not a book I abjectly hated, it's just a book that is plotted in such a way that you become lackadaisical about when you pick it up.

Beyond pacing, there are lots of concepts and atrocities that I had problems with, yet these are problems that are what make the book the Classic that it is. These are the ideas and issues you keep dwelling on and that make the book leave a lasting impression. But what I had the biggest problem with stylistically was The Club that Offred's Commander takes her to. The Club is a brothel in a hotel which Offred visited with Luke before they were married and is there to tend to the "needs" of the high ranking officials of Gilead, whether those are personal or diplomatic needs it doesn't matter. Now it's not the hypocrisy that bothers me, because in a country enslaving women to the will of God it makes a sick kind of sense that those in power don't obey the laws, laws that they themselves have written. What bothers me is that for the first time in the book it felt dated. In the introduction written by Valerie Martin she says that the reason this book is a classic is that it becomes more relevant the more time has passed. This struck me as so very true. Yes we can play "what if" games and think about how certain technological advances, like the Internet, would have changed the outcome, but taken as it is there is a timelessness to The Handmaid's Tale in every instance EXCEPT The Club. For the first time you can feel that this book was written in the 80s. Yes, you've known this all along, you've caught glimpses here and there but Offred arrives at that Club and wham, it's the 80s right in your face. And the thing is I can't quite put my finger on why. Is it the hotel design with it's glass elevators that anyone growing up in the 80s stayed at at one time or another? Was it the weird dishabille feathered outfit Offred dons? Was it the makeup she applied? There's not one thing on it's own, but everything in total all of a sudden dates this novel and takes away it's timelessness.

The truth is with The Club monopolizing the final third of the book with Offred's story abruptly ending shortly thereafter if it wasn't for the epilogue of "historical notes" The Handmaid's Tale would have been a tale worth quickly forgetting. The Twelfth Symposium on Gileadean Studies gives the book a broader context. We get some indication of what happened to Offred, but more than that we learn a little about the cast of characters whom we've been spending so much time with. Hypotheses on who her Commander was, why she was called Offred (Of Fred) and so much more. Yet the "symposium" also gives a hint of what's to come in Offred's world, that it will become far harsher before it gets better. The times, the horrific times that Offred lived in are viewed by the academicians as rather lax, when having just spent all this time with Offred we know they are not. So one can draw some pretty horrific conclusions as to how much worse it got. What I also liked about this little end note was that it gave a stronger sense of reality and weight to Offred's story. She is the voice of the oppressed in Gilead. In a world where women weren't even allowed to read it's her story that survives. Her tale. Somehow these few pages made it all seem more real. I might have disliked Offred, I might have had issues in how she told her tale, but in the end the fact that her tale was told is viewed as a triumph because her voice got to be heard. This is oddly why I'm looking forward to the TV series so much. This epilogue opened up the world of Gilead more. Offred's world is so small, so cloistered, and yet there's this big world out there and I want to hear all the stories, I want to see all of this world, and then I want it burned to ash and stability and human equality returned.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 1st Person Narration, 80s, Adultery, Charles Dickens, Classics, Dystopian, Dystopian Drama, E.M. Forster, Epilogue, Gilead, Margaret Atwood, Offred, Reproduction, Sherlock Holmes, The Handmaid's Tale, Women's Rights

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Published by: Max Press
Publication Date: 1811
Format: Hardcover, 368 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Elinor is pragmatic about the death of their father. They have lost their home and they will find a new one and carry on. Her younger sister Marianne has opted for another approach, misery exponentially increased by any dear memory of her father and the beloved house they all shared. Their mother is perfectly happy wallowing with Marianne while watching her step-son and his odious wife Fanny destroy Norland Park, that is until that odious Fanny insinuates that Elinor isn't good enough for her brother Edward and Mrs. Dashwood can not remove them fast enough from Norland Park. Thanks to kind relations they are able to leave the odious behind and settle at Barton Cottage, part of Barton Park were Mrs. Dashwood's cousin Sir John Middleton resides. There they have a new social circle of relatives and friends and Marianne is drawn to one in particular, Willoughby. Willoughy is the same in all her sensibilities and they are soon as thick as thieves and their engagement is expected to be announced daily, much to Colonel Brandon's dismay. Yet the announcement never comes and Willoughby takes off to London and they hear no more from him. So when Sir John's mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings, invites the two girls to accompany her to London Marianne jumps at the chance. But London will be a proving ground for the young girls hearts. Will either of them find a happily ever after or are their hearts destined to be forever broken by their first loves?

It seems odd to me that in a high school that actually had a good English department where I read many classics I never read any Jane Austen. By the friends I made through various bizarre and arcane clubs I was introduced to her via the Colin Firth miniseries in February of my senior year. This was on my level, being more into films than books at the tender age of seventeen, it was the perfect bridge from one art form to another. At that time I was adamant that I wasn't going to college in the fall, and I in fact didn't, but that doesn't mean I was averse to learning and reading and I took it upon myself that summer to acquaint myself with the classics, many of which had been made into films starring Emma Thompson. She was a powerful bridge to Austen and also to Forster, though the most powerful of all was anything to do with Monty Python. The summer of 1996 was spent on my side porch reading classics I never thought I would ever pick up. Though it was to Austen I felt the most visceral a connection. Sense and Sensibility was the first book of hers that I read and I remember towards the end reading it in my bedroom because of the copious sobbing that accompanied my reading. When Edward arrived at Barton cottage to declare his freedom and his desire to marry Elinor, I just sat in my window sobbing. I never knew a book could do this to me. I was forever converted to Austen and through her I found the love of classics that my family always wished for me.

Do to what is happening in my life at the moment I've been feeling old. Which might account for why I noticed the characters ages so much on this reading of Sense and Sensibility. When I first read this book I was the same age as Marianne is for most of the story so I could feel a kinship with her and totally identify to being that age, even if I like to think of myself more as Elinor. As I've grown older I've still felt that kinship, that connection, but never internalized the ages of the characters as a did on that first reading. Marianne and Elinor are young, Colonel Brandon and Mrs. Dashwood are old. Or so I've always thought. For the first time ever I noticed their ages. The flannel waistcoat wearing Colonel is 35 and Mrs. Dashwood is about 40. Which gave me an "oh dear" moment. I am OLDER than Colonel Brandon who was thought too old for love and closing in fast on Mrs. Dashwood. Yes, I could say that obviously people married younger in Regency times because the life expectancy was shorter, but I literally have friends I went to high school with with kids in college. If my life had taken an entirely different and unexpected route I am old enough to have an Elinor and Marianne and Margaret of my own! So needless to say I felt myself on this realization seeing things more from the "elderly" point of view. Oh, Colonel Brandon, you are a youngin...

Comparing Sense and Sensibility to Austen's other work is interesting in that despite having a plethora of female characters to root for she usually has one heroine, an Emma or a Lizzy, yet here she has two. Given that one is so reserved and the other so melodramatic it's as if she's split her heroine in half. Yes, we could analyze that her book originally necessitated two leads because it was written in epistolary fashion before being dramatically changed in the edits, but I think it's more fascinating to look at this in the classical sense, as in Plato's Symposium. Mary Shelley was strongly influenced by Aristophanes' myth of primal man being cut in two necessitating two beings that need each other because they originally were one when writing Frankenstein. Who's to say that Austen wasn't as well. Some reviewers note that as the book progresses Austen isn't sure which personality aspect she wants to win the day. Should Elinor and her logic or Marianne and her emotion get the HEA? I don't see this. I think that while yes, Elinor's ending might be more satisfying, they both get the endings that Austen intended all along. But what's more important is that each learns valuable lessons from the other, who they need. Marianne needs some of Elinor's grounding, while Elinor needs to not bury her emotions so deep. If they were one we'd have the perfect heroine. But perfect heroines are overrated, I need mine with some flaws so I can root for them.

But just having people to root for isn't nearly as fun as having someone to root against. Lucy Steele is that person. What's interesting is that each time I read this book I get a different take on Lucy. Obviously you can't NOT hate her, she's keeping Elinor and Edward from their HEA. But there's so many different faces to Lucy, the fake friend, the gold digger, the manipulator. She's ambitious and jealous and won't take no for an answer. I mean just the way she controls Elinor with her confession of her secret attachment to Edward! Gaw, she should die for that. Oh, let me destroy all your faith in the man you love AND make you suffer in silence because you're such a good person you'd never tell another soul! And then as a parting blow, let her think I married Edward and not his brother, ta! Yet for all that one thing that Edward and Elinor always remarked on didn't seem that much of an issue to me, and that is Lucy's lack of an education. Yes, it meant she was limited, but it wasn't until this reading that I really caught how stupid she is. Her speech is grammatically incorrect and her overuse of the word "was" is just annoying and wrong. I think the reason this had never struck me before is that if you haven't read Austen, well, it's kind of like Shakespeare in that you have to get into the groove of the writing style. So obviously when I first read it I wouldn't have picked up on it. All the other readings, well, I wasn't the grammar Nazi I am now. So this time? Oh Lucy, I hate you for a whole slew of new reasons.

Yet the character that I hate the most is Willoughby. And this is a hate that has grown over time. I remember when I first saw Emma Thompson's adaptation of Sense and Sensibility I felt cheated that she didn't keep the scene where he "redeems" himself. He really wasn't that bad in my mind. Now I can see why she didn't, he doesn't deserve ANY redemption. The reason is all in his seduction of Eliza. Reading this book for the first time at 17 an unwanted pregnancy didn't seem that horrific. In fact, they were kind of popularized by movies like For Keeps? Interesting fact, it was filmed here in Madison, Wisconsin. OK, Molly Ringwald and her ironically Darcy named heroine aside, I just didn't think it was a big deal having a baby. Because I didn't understand Regency England. Colonel Brandon's ward having a baby out of wedlock is the worst thing that could happen to any woman. To be seduced and left with a parting gift that would arrive nine months later is the most vile thing I man can do, especially to a well bred woman, and even more especially when he could have just paid a prostitute. It was the game of destroying her that made if more fun, no matter what he said after the fact about her TOTALLY having his address, because he could have made it right! Once discovered by his benefactress he could have married Eliza and made everything right in the world. Instead he marries an heiress and regrets not marrying Marianne and never gives another thought to Eliza. He deserves NO FORGIVENESS! NONE AT ALL! If this book has one flaw it's that Austen feels a little bad for him. She wrote him that way, she can't now apologize for it!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Aging, Bicentenary Ball, Colin Firth, E.M. Forster, Emma Thompson, Frankenstein, Heroine, Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, Molly Ringwald, Monty Python, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby

The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones: Tales of Innocence
Starring: Sean Patrick Flanery, Jay Underwood, Veronica Logan, Pernilla August, Renato Scarpa, Anna Lelio, Selina Giles, Clare Higgins, Evan Richards, David Haig, and Roshan Seth
Release Date: July 14th, 1999
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Indy is stationed in Northern Italy. While his work has him arranging the dangerous defection of German troops to the allied forces, he spends all his time thinking of getting back to Guiletta. Guiletta, the girl of his dreams. Sure, her parents don't approve, but what does that have to do with love? All is well until he realizes he has a mysterious rival for the affections of Guiletta. He spills his guts out to a fellow American who drives an ambulance that night in the local cantena. Ernest Hemingway seems full of great ideas to one-up this upstart, that is until Indy realizes that Ernest is his rival! The two friends quickly become bitter enemies trying to win the heart of Guiletta while still doing their duty in the war. And war being war, anything could happen. Ernest and Indy are both injured in an air raid. While Indy is recuperating in Venice, his body and his heart start to heal. Though once healed he will be back in action, stealing hearts and saving the world. He only wishes his new assignment were more exciting. Trying to find out the culprits behind the transferring of arms in Morocco seems dull compared to fighting on the front lines. Yet his companion, the novelist Edith Wharton, turns what would be a boring mission into the journey of a lifetime.

Right before I started high school The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles premiered. Despite being such a short lived series it will forever hold a place in my heart. In fact, starting high school it was a good way to weed out prospective friends, if they watched the show and loved Sean Patrick Flanery as much as I did, well, friends for life. Literally. I fell hard for Young Indy and Sean Patrick Flanery, River Phoenix in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was long forgotten. I even have the premiere issue of The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles Magazine that I ordered through Scholastic signed by Sean Patrick Flanery, who was the nicest person you could hope to meet and I had so much fun talking about the show with him at Wizard World Chicago. Yes, I fully admit to fangirling all over this series and Sean but luckily not to his face. I was so caught up in the stories and the romance and the action, and let's not omit the Sean angle, that I didn't realize how sneaky George Lucas was being. George Lucas was making me learn history! Designed as an educational program for children and teenagers, historical figures and important events were showcased through these prequels to the films.

I learned much of my history through the life of Indiana Jones. While I was more into the romantic travails of Indy fending off a young Ernest Hemingway, the Easter Rebellion wormed it's way into my brain. Pancho Villa worked his way in while I was admiring Indy's horsemanship. Damn that boy can ride! George Lucas had secretly succeeded in teaching me where my teachers failed. To be fair though, in grade school, it was the fault of the teachers not of history. The film franchise with Harrison Ford was very much centered on the Nazis and World War II. Therefore, due to Indy's age, it only made sense for "Young" Indy to be involved in World War I. From enlisting in the Belgian Army because of his young age, to fighting at the Somme and Verdun, to transporting weaponry across German East Africa and the Congo, to escaping from a prisoner of war camp, to escorting Austrian Princes, to even being seduced by Mata Hari, Henry Jones Junior encapsulated all of the Great War in his escapades in a way that was memorable and entertaining. I can't help but think that if my high school English teacher had combined A Farewell to Arms with Indy's adventures in Northern Italy in June of 1918 I might not have taken such a strong dislike to Hemingway.

Watching the first half of this episode twenty-three years after it first aired I'm amazed that it still holds up. It's not just for the Sean Patrick Flanery devotees, there's a good solid plot, lots of zany and goofy humor, in particular one scene involving the mass consumption of pasta, as well as some nice jabs at Hemingway. And yes, I still don't like Hemingway all these years later, so I take great amusement in his suffering. But what really struck me this time around was the influence of E.M. Forster on the look and feel of the Italian storyline. Yes, there's probably a part of me nostalgic for all his books and movies I devoured just last fall, yet there's this lovely innocence to Indy and Hemingway vying for the love of Guiletta, even if they get a little debauched at the bar after wooing hours... this story does have Hemingway in it so it was inevitable. I also think the fact that Howard's End coming out a year before this episode aired isn't a coincidence, even though this story is more reminiscent of A Room with a View in my opinion. When Indy goes on a walk with Guiletta with Granny as guardian, the beauty of the countryside is almost overwhelming. The show might have ended because it cost so much to make, but just watching it again, they did it right, and isn't that what matters?

What I love though about this storyline is that it shows that the Great War wasn't just in trenches in France with Germany bombarding them. This was the smallest section of the "European Theater" yet the war effected quite literally the entire world. With Indy traveling around we see how the war was fought from North Africa to Russia. Here we get a glimpse of the work being done in Northern Italy, with German forces successfully defecting, as well as the importance of non-active troops, such as ambulance drivers, which is how Hemingway served during the war. We also see that not every second of every day was devoted to battle. They have down time to drink, to think of the future, to love. Just because there is a war doesn't mean that we stop being human. I think that is what comes across most with the adventures of Indy, these famous people were actually people. Sometimes we look on celebrities as a different breed, people apart. But in the end they're just like us. They have hopes and dreams, like Hemingway wanting to be a writer, even if Indy shuns his idea of a love letter, which is hilariously literal. Humanizing history is what this show does, and perhaps that's why I became a lover of historical fiction.

Though while the first half is forever one of my favorite sections, the second section with Edith Wharton, which was never aired, I think is the most eye opening. To me Edith Wharton is so of a different time that I have never really connected her to the fact that she was around during World War I. She seems somehow of the past yet unmoored from historical events. Yet she tirelessly helped the war effort in France throughout the conflict. All that she did is amazing if you read about it, heck she even wrote several books on it herself. She was even appointed to the Legion of Honour for her work! And while the continuity doesn't quite work with her actual travels in Morocco, it's interesting to see Indy, not just solving a mystery, but having a relationship with a woman that is more about conversation and mutual understanding than about infatuation or seduction. Indy is, after all, a ladies' man, but Wharton here has the power. In an obvious mirroring of Wharton's own work, I mean just look to the title of this episode, Indy is relegated to the weaker role, that of Newland Archer, where Wharton holds all the cards of a intelligent and irresistible Countess Olenska. It's great fun to see Indy wrong-footed, but also to appreciate a woman for something more than just her looks. Which is why I knew he always HAD to end up with Marion Ravenwood. Always.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Fall of Poppies, A Farewell to Arms, E.M. Forster, Edith Wharton, Ernest Hemingway, George Lucas, Indiana Jones, Sean Patrick Flanery, The Age of Innocence, The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, WWI

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth Von Arnim
Published by: NYRB Classics
Publication Date: 1922
Format: Paperback, 247 Pages
Rating: ★
To Buy

Mrs. Wilkins sees an advertisement in The Times for a house rental in Italy for the entire month of April. The medieval castle of San Salvatore beckons to her. She sees herself there. But she couldn't possibly spend her money on something so frivolous, what would her husband Mellersh say? Anyway it's too expensive for one... but with two. Seeing Mrs. Arbutnot that day, looking at the same ad, something clicked in Mrs. Wilkins. She just knew that Mrs. Arbuthnot was just as dissatisfied with her life too. They could easily afford the place together. Mrs. Arbuthnot had the money that her husband sets aside for her, the ill gotten gains of his writing scandalous memoirs of famous mistresses, that she usually spends on God's work. It wouldn't be wrong, would it, to spend it on herself for once? Yet, to share this good fortune among only two seemed wrong. So soon they place an ad for two more people, and are joined by the elderly Mrs. Fisher, who just wants to be left alone in the Italian sun remembering her glory days, and Lady Caroline Dester, who just wants to escape her fame and infamy.

Once in Italy, they are all overcome with the beauty and the abundance of flowers. The burgeoning wisteria, the fragrance of the bushes. Mrs. Wilkins is the first to embrace the change the place has wrought in her, writing to her husband she was trying to escape from to join her. Her heart flowing over with goodwill and serenity that must be shared with all. Soon Mrs. Arbuthnot starts to unwind and see that perhaps she has been too hard on her husband and his writing. Mrs. Fisher remains obstinate and stoic, wanting everything her way, with her own space and her own memories, but she soon starts to flex, ever so slightly. Lady Caroline also begins to change, having all this time to just think and escape the pawing of everyone makes her come to some startling conclusions about herself. The house has a magic that changes all of them mysteriously and irrevocably.

One day I stumbled on an idyll movie. There were lots of British actors whom I recognized and this feeling of beauty and release and joy. That movie happened to be Enchanted April. While I only caught but a few moments of the film it stuck with me and one day when I stumbled on the book while browsing the shelves of a local bookstore I bought it immediately. I thought if the book had but a fraction of the charm that I saw distilled in those fleeting moments I watched on the screen it would be a luxurious escape. But as is often the case with me I had some very odd ideas about this book I had found. I was adamant that I would only read the book in April. Yes, a crazy thought, but I just had to do it. The book was called The Enchanted April after all! And I wanted my own April to be enchanted. So every April I would think, "This April, I'll read it." Yet life would invariably get in the way. Work, school, something always happened so that by the time I had the time to read it, it was no longer April and therefore I refused to read it. Then finally the stars aligned. I had the time and I was totally disenchanted. I don't know if it was the years of build up or just that I wasn't in the right frame of mind, but I not only disliked this book, I openly hated it.

The Enchanted April is supposed to be an escapist fantasy. The, wouldn't it be lovely to be there with them in Italy. Instead it made me feel bitter and angry towards all the characters. Oh, their boring lives of routine are so hard, let them luxuriate in Italian splendor that you can't take part in as you toil through a crappy Wisconsin April with tons and tons of work. Oh, it cost us nothing to live in this magical place and isn't that just wonderful, grumble, grumble. Very shortly I wanted to go and kill them all. Their lives aren't so hard that they needed this getaway! I need this getaway and guess what? I don't have the time or the money, so shut it ladies. Mrs. Wilkins' knowing and seeing were a tad too much, too affected for me. Mrs. Arbuthnot, besides having a stupid name, should get off her high horse and embrace the fact that she has money. Mrs. Fisher, well, I kind of liked that she was bitchy most of the book, but that kindness from a young man could turn it so, blurg. Then poor Lady Caroline, men and women all just love her so so much she can't get a moment alone. Poor darling. I can't help but wonder what the enchantments of April will bring to the rest of their lives... they thought they where dissatisfied before? I'm sure the honeymoon will soon be over and their lives will be even more unbearable, I can just see it... now why does that make me so happy?

Yet what irked me most wasn't this fairy tale fantasy that changed their lives but the idea that change can only be wrought by uprooting your life. That they couldn't have become contented in their lives without this experience. So what does that say to us mere mortal readers who don't have this opportunity? Your life will suck forever? This reminds me of the tripe spewed by those who think that only travel can expand your horizons. A friend who goes off to China or Vietnam and spends the next five years starting every conversation "when I was in..." Or even worse the "you'll understand when you travel." I have traveled some and want to travel more, but responsibilities and economies are realities that I face as most do. And the truth is you don't need to travel to effect change in your life. You don't need to go somewhere else to expand your horizons. People who tell you these lies are small-minded and don't have the depth to realize that just looking at the world around you and reading can be the biggest catalysts for change. Emily Dickinson was one of the greatest observers of the human condition and she barely left her house! It's change that comes from within that lasts. Yes, a journey or a story can change you, but you have to internalize it, have it become a part of you. Will this change of life stay in place for these characters once they return home? Because in truth it seems a superficial change that can not hope to last. 

But let's play devil's advocate. Say that these characters have changed, that their "internal growth" has fixed them. The truth is this isn't shown it's just told to us. They are just soothed by their surroundings and made whole. From the readers point of view nothing happened. They were miserable and now they're not. We don't see their internal struggle, we don't see how this seismic shift has happened, we are just observers, we aren't even along for the ride. That is the key. Most people label this book as boring but the truth behind this truth is that someone else's personal journey isn't interesting, it's annoying, unless you are taken along for the ride. Insight, commentary on the experience, anything to forge a connection with the characters so that their personal journey becomes your journey. So that you have internal growth at the same pace as the characters. A lot of people say that this book is the middle-aged A Room with a View. While I get the comparison, I would like fans of this book to go read the other. Because A Room with a View forges this connection that is forever lacking in The Enchanted April. You become so invested in Lucy Honeychurch's journey to find herself that at times you are in pain simply hoping that her life will work out. I never once felt that for any of Elizabeth Von Arnim's characters. Not even for a second.

On the other hand, Elizabeth Von Arnim herself sounds like a fascinating lady. She was a Countess (twice over!) with a husband in prison for fraud. They had a luxurious family estate in Pomerania where E.M. Forster and Hugh Walpole came as tutors. I would like to have the wherewithal to hire E. M. Forster as my children's tutor, wouldn't you? But now going back to the parallels with A Room with a View, which was published fourteen years prior to The Enchanted April I'm starting to question her morals. Like she was sitting around one day and thought I could do better than my children's tutor, and promptly failed. Oh, and she just happened to be the mistress to H.G Wells!?! Sister-in-law to Bertrand Russell! She fled her second marriage by going to America and taking up with a publisher thirty years her junior. I want to read a biography on her! In fact, with such a fascinating and full life, why is her writing so darn flat? I'd like to read more about Elizabeth... not necessarily more by Elizabeth.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Room with a View, Backlog Bonanza, Betrand Russell, British, E.M. Forster, Elizabeth Von Arnim, Emily Dickinson, Enchanted April, H.G. Wells, Hugh Walpole, Italy, Personal Journeys, The Enchanted April, Travel

White Teeth by Zadie Smith
Published by: Vintage
Publication Date: March 19th, 1999
Format: Paperback, 448 Pages
Rating: ★
To Buy

On New Year's Eve 1974 Archie Jones sets out to kill himself but ends up being unsuccessful, yet like a butterfly leaving the cocoon, he leaves that gas filled car a new man. A new life and a new wife await him! His old army buddy Samad Iqbal has been saying to him for awhile that what he needs is a new young wife, like his own Alsana. That night Archie meets Clara Bowden and by Valentine's Day they are man and wife. Archie is escaping the life left in that car and Clara is escaping her mother, Hortense, whose religious beliefs as a Jehovah's Witness have stifled Clara's life. It isn't long before the middle aged men are fathers. Archie has a lovely daughter, Irie, and Samad has twins boys, Magid and Millat, who couldn't be more different.

It is 1984 and now Samad's life is about to change forever. He falls hard for his son's music teacher, Poppy Burt-Jones. The lust stirred in Samad has him questioning everything. But the attraction is mutual, and soon he has a new outlet for his lust. Yet his religious beliefs and the sin he is committing because, as he claims, the lure of the Western world has seduced him, leads him to do something that his wife will never forgive him for. He feels that if he could be degraded in this way, his sons are in even worse danger. He wants to send them back to Bangladesh, but only has the financial resources to send one of them. Magid and Millat are separated and Alsana can never forgive him until Magid is returned to her.

The 90s have come and Irie is grown up and in love with Millat. Millat has indeed fallen prey to the lure of the West as his father feared. He sleeps around, does drugs, gets into fights, and is still somehow the object of Irie's affection, which he doesn't return. One day at school Irie is confronting Millat near resident nerd Josh Chalfen when there is a drugs bust. The three of them get brought before the principal for Millat's marijuana. In the hope that Josh and his illustrious family, his mother Joyce is an author while his father Marcus is a genetic engineer, will be a good influence on Irie and Millat they are to go to the Chalfens once a week and have Josh tutor them. Soon it's everyday. Joyce takes an extreme interest in Millat while Irie starts to work for Marcus as an assistant. Even Magid, back in Bangladesh, befriends Marcus and decides to return to England. But the life of Chalfenism is divisive, and soon Josh has joined an animal rights group, FATE, to protest his father's genetic engineering of FutureMouse, while Millat has joined a fundamentalist Islamic group, KEVIN, to turn his back on his old life and the fact that Marcus prefers Magid. On the eve of the new millennium, everyone gathers to herald the arrival of FutureMouse... most with differing ideas as to how the evening will go.

From the little blurb I have assembled above you might be drawn to the false conclusion that this book actually has a plot. It doesn't. Well... it kind of does at the very end where Zadie Smith apparently realized she needed one and just threw in a handful of new characters and a whole bunch of organizations with stupid acronyms and built words into an unsatisfying conclusion with guns and Nazis and genetically engineered mice. That is right, she brought in Nazis. And I think that's the problem, she brought in whatever she wanted randomly and then just threw it aside when she got bored. Though she never seemed to get bored of slightly tweaking the reader with little asides in some random post modern moments of incomprehensibility. So the book actually feels like a bunch of interconnected short stories, some of which might have been good if they hadn't been thrown in with the morass of crap and depravity that makes up the majority of this book.

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend and she asked me if I had read Zadie Smith's On Beauty. I replied that I had, mainly because it was a loosely, if failed, reimagining of Howards End, and was mentioned on The Vicar of Dibley. She was wondering if I was put off by the very detailed descriptions of one of the character's nipples. I honestly said that I had no recollection of this, most likely I had blocked it from my memory. I can honestly say though, after reading White Teeth, I will never forget Zadie Smith's obsession with nipples ever again. In fact, this book can be summed up as very boring with a veneer of eww. If I wasn't bored senseless I was quite literally wanting to throw up. Thirty pages of a 57 year old man masturbating (a different friend claims it might have been more, perhaps I'm preemptively blocking this out). Domestic abuse, where the children are placing bets on their parents. Teenagers marrying men in their 40s (proving Smith has daddy issues). A father of Irie's classmate calling her a big black goddess and ruminating about her breasts, when she's only what, fourteen! The aforementioned nipples, except for multiple characters, not just one. I wanted to wash my brain after reading this book.

Now, you're thinking that I missed the point, that the book wasn't about these accumulated repugnant and repulsive moments. I totally get that the book is about heritage and ancestry and genetics and what limitations we are burdened with, nature, nurture, fate. The second generation versus the first generation. You would have to be blind to miss this, especially once we get to FutureMouse. But the truth is, I can't, I couldn't, give a tinker's damn. It doesn't matter if you set out to write the most amazing, most profound story, if your characters are not only unlikeable, but reprehensible, then there is no way I will care. With all this ick as I will pejoratively call everything in this book, there wasn't a redeemable character or any reason to even finish reading this book except for the fact that I am incapable of leaving a book unfinished. So I finished. I read ever last work Smith wrote and I hated it. Mine is an educated hate, you can't say fairer than that!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Acronyms, Ancestral, E.M. Forster, Eww, FutureMouse, Genetic Engineering, Howards End, Jehovah's Witness, Masturbation, Nazis, On Beauty, Pedophile, Religion, Vicar of Dibley, White Teeth, Zadie Smith

A Room with a View
Based on the book by E.M. Forster
Starring: Elaine Cassidy, Rafe Spall, Laurence Fox, Timothy Spall, Timothy West, Sinéad Cusack, Elizabeth McGovern, Mark Williams, Sophie Thompson, and Tom Stewart
Release Date: November 4th, 2007
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Lucy Honeychurch and her chaperon, cousin Charlotte, are in Italy to be tourists. But the pension they have chosen is letting them down. They were promised a room with a view. Well, the room has a sort of view, not the kind they were expecting. At dinner their grievances are met with a solution, a father and son, the Emersons, have offered their rooms to the two women. Charlotte thinks this is beyond the pale and insists they switch pensions first thing in the morning. But the arrival of Mr. Beebe, a clergyman they know and respect, means they rethink their decision to leave, and Lucy convinces Charlotte with the help of Mr. Beebe to rethink the Emersons's offer. As Lucy awakes that first morning in Florence, it's to a glorious view. Lucy is very proper and polite and does all the things that tourists should do, but as Mr. Beebe notices when she plays the piano, there is something in her that is very exciting. Lucy isn't the staid Edwardian that she seems. This hidden nature of hers is very much in line with the outspoken Emersons, and before Charlotte whisks them off to Rome practically in the middle of the night, Lucy will share a kiss and maybe her heart with the young George Emerson. But in Rome she is reintroduced to Cecil Vyse, an opinionated and upright Englishman, but opinionated in all the right and not outspoken ways. Lucy eventually condescends to marry Cecil when they are back in England, but the arrival of the Emersons into their small little community is going to change Lucy's life forever.

After watching so many confined and staid and uptight and stagy adaptations of Forster's work it was such a relief to watch one that has real passion. An adaptation that could move you literally to tears. While there might be those who criticize Andrew Davies's adaptation for playing fast and loose with the storyline, I counter that he cut to the quick of the story and kept that which was vital intact. If you weren't a Forster purist or had never read the books, just watch the old Merchant and Ivory adaptation and then watch this one, it is without a doubt that this version makes a better film. That is what it comes down to in the end, which is the better movie, and this one will always win, even with the weird transfer error of blurred behinds and a lackluster score. What I think made this version work was that, like the book, the integration of Lucy's piano playing as a window to her soul was actually incorporated throughout the movie. Instead of a few set pieces with Helena Bonham Carter rigidly sitting at a piano and obviously not knowing what to do, here Elaine Cassidy throws herself into the music and bares her soul. It is distinctly a plus that you can actually see that she is playing the music, even if the ADR team might have dropped in a more accomplished version later. One can not stress enough that to make a good movie you have to connect with your audience, and this connected with me, with passion and empathy and yes, love, and sometimes it hurts.

All the feels in this movie just made it more real, more human, more alive. There's affection and attraction. If you look at the kiss between George and Lucy in the Merchant and Ivory adaptation, it's like watching two people who don't even like each other being yelled at by the director to kiss and they are going to try to stop the inevitable for as long as possible. That kiss is painful to watch. Here, well, the kiss is painful to watch for different reasons. There is abandon and discovery in it. True feeling. True connection. It's joyous. In fact, I would say that is what is at the very center of this adaptation, there is joy. Life is breathed into the story and we connect to it because it's joyous. There's this message that we are to live life now. Live for today. Don't settle, don't do what you think is expected of you. Don't go for the passionless Cecil, go for the man who makes your heart race as he sneaks a kiss behind the bushes. In this version by downplaying Cecil and actually giving George all his lines you actually connect to George in a way Forster wanted you to but was never quite able to accomplish. The speech that George gives to Lucy and Charlotte in the dinning room before he is banished from Windy Corner makes you realize how they are meant to be. I was like Charlotte, in the corner weeping, because this is what love looks like. You fight for it, you make your case, you don't go off like a wounded dog wrapped in a blanket in a carriage.

Yet, all the success of the Emersons comes down to the genius who cast the Spalls as father and son. By having an actual father and son play these characters you don't get that weird disconnect between father and son that Denholm Elliott and Julian Sands had. They felt like strangers, and Julian was way too posh. Here you not only see their love for each other, but they are able to play off each other, have the same inflection in their voices, the same infectious grin. They are true kindred spirits and by having this love offscreen it bleeds over into the film. It doesn't hurt that both of them are superb actors, in fact can we perhaps get Timothy some more well deserved awards STAT? As for Rafe, I've talked about my love of Rafe before... But seriously, now and forever, they are the Emersons for me. You love Mr. Emerson for his sweetness, his befuddled charm, his strong opinions and his belief that love conquers all. And George, I can understand why Lucy would love you, I love him watching this adaptation. He is a good man with a big heart and that grin. I'm sorry, but that grin could steal anyone's heart. He exudes vulnerability and likability and you can't help but love him. Whereas Julian Sands, I can never nor will never get that. There isn't anything inherently likable about him that makes you want to take him home and never let him leave. But Rafe, he is a good man.

This likability combined with this seize the moment and live your truth today feeds into the coda that Andrew Davies created. Now a LOT of people have expressed their displeasure about the coda, which isn't really a coda so much as a framing device for the entire story. Andrew Davies has written it so that George dies a hero in the first world war and that Lucy has come back to Italy to remember the good man that she loved. Hue and cry from all around. Firstly, have these people read the real ending that Forster tried to omit later? The one where George is a conscientious objector and then cheats on Lucy? Um, I don't think so. So right there, this ending is better, love till death do they part and all that. Secondly, Forster loves his tragedies in his final act, to leave the reader with a little slice of life and a lot of what the fuck. He had apparently toyed with the idea of killing George and having a rather different ending. Perhaps that is why in the book the ending doesn't quite work. There's something off with it. He could never get it quite right so he seems to have given up. This ending fixes that imperfect fit. Yes, it's sad. But the melancholy has a truth to it. This makes the story something more. Something greater. It's a true love story that lasted as long as it could, but reality gave us that final gut punch that Forster loved so much. Yet Lucy, while sad, is still happy, in her way. She knows that she loved a good man, that she lived the life she was meant to have, even if she was only able to hold on for a short time. It's truth and love at it's most human level.

But I really want to know, what is it about Andrew Davies that he just knows? He just gets how to streamline a story, how to take something that is good or near prefect and make it perfection. His unerring eye as to what needs to be kept and what needs to be ditched and how to sum up something that was long winded but still keeps it's essence with just a few words? Of the twenty-eight adaptations of his I have watched, I only disliked six of them, and none of the problems I had with those could be laid at his feet. Well, maybe B. Monkey, because he wrote the book as well.... But still, of my favorite miniseries of all time, almost ten of those were done by him. Is he some sort of magical adaptation fairy that comes along and sprinkles pixie dust on the production so that it will be perfect? Does he have a knack for channeling the authors and just knowing how they'd write it and exactly in what way with the perfect cadence? I remember in one of the adaptations I didn't care for, Tipping the Velvet, the one thing that really added to the miniseries was the music hall songs. Watching the extras on the DVD I found out that all the songs were Andrew Davies's idea AND he wrote them all. He is a genius and has the special power of just knowing. He gets it. That is why I think he should be the only one to adapt certain pieces of literature, and I for one am beyond gleeful that one of the pieces he did adapt was A Room with a View.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Room with a View, Andrew Davies, B. Monkey, E.M. Forster, Elaine Cassidy, Forster Fall, Helena Bonham Carter, Italy, Julian Sands, Laurence Fox, Passion, Rafe Spall, Timothy Spall, Tipping the Velvet, WWI