strange and random happenstance

I took three and a half years of French in high school. Looking back I'm amused that when the class started reading books we went directly from Le Petit Prince to Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. That's quite a linguistic leap. Beloved children's book to mammoth literary classic? Sure, why not! After all my reading comprehension of French has always been stronger than my speaking comprehension. And I probably remember no opening of a book better than The Count of Monte Cristo because of getting to experience the classic for the first time in its original language. I am not the only one of my close high school friends to feel this way because one of them developed quite a fixation with the 2002 adaptation of the book starring Jim Caviezel and Guy Pearce. And it is that adaptation in particular that meant that this one was needed. Because let me tell you, if you're a book purist, that one lives in cloud cuckoo land. Not that this one is perfect. But it's damn close. It doesn't hurt that it has eight episodes in which to tell the tale. And to think, after the first episode, I actually doubted that I would like it let along love it. My initial hesitation is that the first episode has a different tonal quality to the rest of the series. This is an epic story of revenge and the first episode is just putting all the pieces in place, which is why you always give a show two episodes to prove its worth. Always. What's more, because the first episode is fifteen years before the main action of the story there's some dubious application of makeup to make the cast look younger. Hale and hearty they are not. Over the hill actors trying to appear youthful? That's more the mark. Thankfully by the time we get to the second episode and Edmond's imprisonment we get a brilliant two-hander with Sam Claflin and Jeremy Irons. Their interaction and Edmond's education are sheer brilliance. This resets the show and it's on with the vengeance. Machiavelli would be so proud. Because Edmond doesn't take the advice of Abbé Faria while they are imprisoned that 'before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.' While I think Edmond would agree that he filled a grave or two with the innocent, making him regret his actions, personally, I think it was completely worth what was lost. The cabal of evil against him were selfish and a malignancy on the world. And, I got to say, no one has ever done that combination better than Blake Ritson. Time and again these are the trademarks of his best characters, and Danglars is right up there with Oscar Van Rhijn and Count Girolamo Riario. In the final episode when he has a full blown panic attack about his financial situation, oh, the swift swing from desperation to hope, the way he looks at Edmond with tears in his eyes and the sheer perfection of his comedic pauses while drinking a glass of water. Oh, I wanted to give him a standing ovation. If I have any complaints about this adaptation it's that it took two years to finally air stateside and that the music could have been more dramatic. My family and I were watching this paired with The Forsytes and my brother keep saying over and over, if only Anne Dudley was doing THIS show and not the GQ version of The Forsyte Saga, think how perfect this would have been? Instead we have very kitschy opening credits and a retro font that looks like it belongs on a romance novel. Because, sadly, nothing in this world can be perfect. But this is close.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Alexandre Dumas, Anne Dudley, Blake Ritson, Danglars, Edmond Dantès, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, French, Jeremy Irons, Music, Revenge, Sam Claflin, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Forsytes, The Little Prince

The Princess Bride is my favorite film of all time. Yes, there are other contenders; Clue, Vertigo, L.A. Confidential, but when it comes down to it, there really is no choice, it's The Princess Bride. It has been since the moment I first watched it during the summer of 1988 heatwave while I hide from the sun in my bedroom with all the shades drawn and watched movies all day. Therefore when something is recommended to fans of The Princess Bride as being "like" it I am wary. I mean, first, how can you match perfection? Second, I do not think you mean what you think you mean. But I will forgive everyone who labeled My Lady Jane as like The Princess Bride for the simple fact that for the first time ever I agree. And not just because they totally recreate the scene when Fezzik catches Princess Buttercup when she jumps out the window. Because honestly that didn't quite work, but it was a clever idea. The two are obviously greatly different, one dealing with the real history of Lady Jane Grey warped and the other being more Ruritanian romance than anything else, but the same vein of humor and heart runs through both. I first heard of My Lady Jane because it was part of a YA subscription box I got. Here's the thing about me and subscription boxes... We're not the best match. I like to curate my reading for long periods of time in advance so just having a random book show up is cool, but I can guarantee you it will be years before I read it. So it wasn't on my radar. In fact, like many people bemoaned when it was unjustly cancelled, they had no idea that My Lady Jane had become a series. I thankfully was not in the dark because I follow Rob Brydon on social media. In fact before I looked into who else starred in this show I knew I was going to watch it because Rob Brydon is in it. It's Rob Brydon in Tudor England, how could I not? He has a codpiece. And there are many codpiece jokes. So if that alone doesn't sell you, I'm sorry I don't think we can be friends. Throw in Anna Chancellor, Jim Broadbent, Dominic Cooper, Kevin Eldon, Edward Bluemel, and the plummy tones of Oliver Chris and I was watching it the night it dropped and paying the extra to watch it ad free. And the first episode was a totally ride, but also eye-opening. While I knew this was an alternative history, I totally didn't know it was also a fantasy, so I was quite shocked when people turned into animals. Yeah, that guy totally turned into a bear in a bar. It's chaotic and classic! But you know what? It worked. Everything about this worked. I mean, it's hard for me to explain things I love. I can detail everything that a show gets wrong, but when a show it right it just sings. I can point to Noel Fielding's horrible show, The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin, and say that My Lady Jane is actually the show he wanted to make but failed miserably. The jokes were flat, the delivery bad, and it didn't ground itself. Back to My Lady Jane... I usually hate anachronistic music in shows to the point where I'm yelling at the television, and yet, I want the soundtrack for this show. The song choice and humor, damn. Several times I laughed out loud when I realized what was about to play because it fed into my memories and complemented what was happening in the story. "Nights in White Satin" was beyond genius! Then there's the chemistry. Emily Bader and Edward Bluemel should always star together. You were rooting for this princess and her steed, because of course her husband turns into a horse and he married her for her brain. I mean, there's just so many funny moments that turn everything on their head. And yet, somehow it all works, the warped history, everything, it works. But the cherry on the top of the cake is Oliver Chris as the narrator. His unctuouse voice smarmily and knowingly narrating the show gives it that extra connection to The Princess Bride. It's us viewers and how we're reacting as we're watching, commenting on cliffhangers and gasp-worthy moments. We all are Oliver Chris, and he is us, and why am I not getting a second season? I mean, come on. Do have have to get the ghost of Peter Falk to wander into the Amazon offices and subtly mumble, that he had one more thing he had to do, get a second season of My Lady Jane made? Oh, and stop anyone from ever rebooting The Princess Bride. So I guess that's two more things...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Anachronistic, And the Emmy Goes To, Arranged Marriage, Edward Bluemel, Emily Bader, England, Fantasy, Lady Jane Grey, Music, My Lady Jane, Oliver Chris, Rob Brydon, Subscription Boxes, The Princess Bride, Tudor

Whispers Under Ground by Ben Aaronovitch
Published by: Gollancz
Publication Date: June 21st, 2012
Format: Paperback, 375 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

It's the week before Christmas and PC Peter Grant is working with the big boys, he's been assigned to the murder squad. It's almost a thrill to be working with other coppers again. Being assigned to the Folly means his coworkers are his boss and hopefully soon his old partner Lesley. But not today, today Christmas has come early. He was called in to the Baker Street Underground station to see if he could pick up anything uncanny about their newest corpse. The corpse though was surprisingly clean. No magic. The broken piece of pottery shard that ended the life of James Gallagher is anything but. And now Peter's looking into the murder of an American art student who just happens to be the son of a U.S. Senator. The victim, James Gallagher, was not untalented, he had an eye for street scenes and capturing life. It was almost old fashioned in it's precision. But his art had started to change of late, becoming darker. One of his teachers worried that he might be suicidal. Peter assures him that James Gallagher's death was indeed murder. At his studio Peter learns that his victim was interested in Ryan Carroll, an artist who road the Celtic Tiger all the way to the Tate Modern. Ryan Carroll's artwork, an assemblage of mannequins and found pieces, exude magic. Much like the murder weapon. And much like a bowl found at James Gallagher's apartment. Because magic is the reason that Peter was allowed on the murder squad it's his job to look into the pottery. For that he'll need the help of James Gallagher's roommate, Zach. Zach had obviously been living rough prior to moving in to "help" James discover the real London. Zach though is only passingly familiar with telling the truth. He is definitely more than he looks and when he discovers that Peter is in league with the Nightingale, he's almost more obstreperous. Which Peter doesn't have time for. He has an FBI agent breathing down his neck, an unexpected snowstorm, a trek through the sewers, and who knows what other hell before Christmas comes and all the while there's the looming threat of their "Little Crocodiles," black magicians illegally trained at Oxford that are trying to make his and Nightingale's life a living hell. Couldn't Zach give him the smallest of breaks? And not another broken bowl thank you very much.

What's interesting about the Rivers of London series is that Ben Aaronovitch has created a series with a strong connection to the arts. The first installment was about the world of the threatre, the second installment was about the world of music, in particular jazz, and this third installment brings us to the art world. Oh my, it's like this series was made with me and the various stages of my life in mind, from the piano lessons I started in first grade to the Bachelor's degrees I got in art and theatre as an undergraduate. But when you think about it while the arts are viewed as something rarefied, especially to those with pretensions who I was occasionally taught by, we all have a connection to them, be it a school play we were in, a song we've loved, or something we've drawn. Through our development from child to adult even if it's only tangentially, we've experienced the arts. So while some might think these themes lofty, I think of them as the basic human condition, these are what separate us from the animals, the ability to create and enjoy wonder. But going back to my time as an undergraduate, the student studios that Peter tours are priceless. I mean, it was so spot on I could barely contain my glee. The pretentious concept pieces to James's very traditional art, I've seen it all and Ben Aaronovitch brought it all back to me. Oh and I can't leave out Ryan Carroll, a man in it for the money, who views that his art should speak for itself. Do not get me started on people who think art should speak for itself. Nothing is beyond verbalization. Your "act of creation" or whatever you want your process to be about in the forming of clay or what have you should be able to speak for itself BUT you should be able to talk about the what and the whys of it. An artist who can not explain their art isn't a true artist, they are a poseur. Which is very interesting as to how the pottery angle works in. I don't know if other people experienced the mystique of pottery as I did. Two hippies ran my pottery classes and it was a weird clique. They "knew things others did not." Therefore to have this mystery of the pottery just made me nod my head sagely and go, "yes, pottery is the greatest mystery." And it's a mystery that Peter is able to solve to the delight of artists and urban explorers everywhere.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Art, Baker Street, Ben Aaronovitch, Christmas, Little Crocodiles, London Calling, London Underground, Murder Squad, Music, Nightingale, Peter Grant, Pottery, Theatre, Urban Explorers, Whispers Under Ground

Mother of Souls (Alpennia Book 3) by Heather Rose Jones
Published by: Bella Books
Publication Date: November 29th, 2016
Format: Kindle, 240 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Luzie Valorin grew up in a family of musicians. When she married she thought she had put that life behind her but the untimely death of her husband forced Luzie to make some difficult choices. She could have run off to the bosom of her family in the countryside but instead she turned her home into a boarding house for theatrical souls. Though opening her house to strangers didn't make ends meet as she had hoped and she supplements her income by teaching piano lessons and doing copy work for her father's old friend, the great classical composer Fizeir. All this just to honor the memory of her dead husband and send their two boys to his old school. The only joy in her life is in composing. She writes little musical pieces to help her students. Whether it's for more confidence or to showcase their current abilities, it brings her joy. She even got up the courage to show Fizeir her work, but he broke her a little when he said he didn't think much of it. But he is willfully "blind" to Luzie's talents as she will painfully learn. She doesn't have just talent, she has the ability to create magic from her compositions. And to think, Luzie would have never known if Serafina hadn't come into her life. If a room in her house hadn't become available and Serafina wasn't in need of a roof over her head. Serafina changed everything.

Serafina Talarico is the daughter of Ethiopian exiles who settled in Rome. Her life was happy until the death of her mother. So many things changed, but what forced her into the arms of Paolo was her interfering sister-in-law who wasn't just domineering, but didn't want any Ethiopian taint in her life. Paolo seemed the perfect choice of husband, he was going to teach Serafina about the mysteries she could see but couldn't perform. Soon his displeasure with his wife's inabilities leads him to spend much time abroad while Serafina takes comfort in the arms of his cousin. Though everything changes for Serafina when she stumbles on the notes of Margerit Sovitre and sees a kindred soul. Throwing caution to the wind she journeys to Alpennia and joins Margerit's inner circle hoping to achieve a mystery that will capture the happiness she experienced in her mother's presence as a child. But she knows Margerit's hospitality can only last so long with Serafina's continued frustration at being unable to perform the simplest of miracles. Therefore she takes a room at Luzie Valorin's boarding house and is shocked to find that the composer is unaware the she is creating magic with her compositions. Serafina encourages Luzie's composing and leaps at the opportunity to help shape an opera whose magic might effect more then these two lonely hearts who've found each other.

Mother of Souls is the first book in Heather Rose Jones's Alpennian series that I feel achieved it's full potential. With each book building off the previous volume everything started to click into place over time and here with the larger cast of characters there was a better balance than just the two previous couples featured. The narrative no longer felt constricted by only four viewpoints and there was a wonderful blending of talents and interests, from music to printing, mysteries to sorcery, religion to godlessness, Alpennia to the rest of the world, here we have a Bloomsbury set for Alpennia. We have artists and free thinkers, a family, a tribe is being created. All these women who felt like they fit into society like a square peg in a round hole come together in salons and aren't crushed under foot by the patriarchy. Seeing as this series is Ruritanian lesbian romance a lot of inference can be made about educated women and their sapphic ways and at times it strains credulity and feels a little stereotypical especially given the previous two installments, but to these niggling criticisms I say that one, it's romance, and two there's Luzie. I should say Luzie and Serafina because I really like how their relationship forms and eventually ends. They are a different kind of heroine. Both have been married, both have been thrust into a new world that they aren't sure will accept them, but both have amazing resilience, and both end up in a place you wouldn't expect them to. That I think was the best part of Mother of Souls, the unexpected.

Yet among all these characters there is a strong theme of female empowerment running rife. This book is a rallying cry, as is the opera Luzie writes about the female philosopher Tanfrit who is only remembered through her connection to the male philosopher Gaudericus! Women have been told to be quiet for far too long! Men are always keeping us down and taking credit for what we do and when that can't work just erasing us from history. I literally can not think of a woman who won't identify with Luzie's relationship with the composer Fizeir. Here is a man that needs her and his need leads him to purposefully insult her work which he obviously thinks is worthy because he passes it off as his own all while she hero worships him. Who hasn't been taken advantage of by a man in power in one way or another? To be told you are "less than" just so that they can keep you in line and keep themselves on the top of the heap. At times I was just filled with rage for Luzie and her situation. She has real talent and has been kept down by the male status quo. While things are still far from equal I really don't know what I would have done if I had been raised in a time when women and their education were frowned upon. To not be allowed to read and learn? I shudder at the thought. Which is why Margerit's founding of the female academy named after Tanfrit is such a wonderful counterpoint to Luzie's journey. Here is a place where women and education is prized and that makes me immensely happy.

What also makes me immensely happy is the expanding of what is considered "magic" in the Alpennian world. The first book Daughter of Mystery dealt with thaumaturgy and The Mystic Marriage dealt with alchemy. These are both "sciences" that were practiced in medieval times. Yet the thaumaturgy we see here is very specifically on the religious mysteries end of the spectrum and the need for devotion to God. Which is why the introduction of alchemy in the second book was cunning in that it can be learned by non-believers and was paving the way to a new magical system. We were slowly moving away from God and looking for a "word other than miracles." In fact it's very clear with all that is happening that "[t]here was more magic in the world than could be encompassed in Margerit's theology." I nearly cried for joy that Margerit was dinged a little. I am such a strong non-believer that I rebelled at a world where only the prayers of certain people were answered and this was what "magic" was. I am not joking that I DID cheer when Margerit's partner Barbara said "[s]ometimes I think we need a different word than 'miracle.'" Sing it sister! Non-religious magic is here to stay! And how is it here to stay? In Luzi'e music. Yes, you could argue that originally music was a strong part of religious devotion, but I'm not going there because I finally have magic unencumbered by the church! Music, to me, has always been magical. Theater even more so. Therefore combining the two is a rare form of magic. Just look how much Hamilton changed our world and it's easy to see that in this world, as in ours, music and performance can change anything.

Though I wouldn't be me if I didn't have something that annoyed me to no end. So Antuniet Chazillen, one of our two heroines from The Mystic Marriage is now a royally appointed alchemist and one of our Alpennian Bloomsbury set. She actually has REAL power. Power that I feel could be used dubiously, but that's an issue I had with the previous volume, not this one. Antuniet also is obsessed with her family's legacy and therefore despite having the Vicomtesse de Cherdillac as her life partner she is determined to have a child. She plans to go about this in the regular fashion, think of it as a 1800s sperm bank because she's so not the type to marry some man just to have a child, leaving Jeanne in the process. But she's so obsessed with her reputation, and here I scratch my head because come on, she lives with a woman and is doing magic, that she decides to fool everyone as to how she became with child. She decides to claim that she created a homunculus because it's the second great act of alchemy and she is THAT GOOD! Excuse me!?! WTF!?! This is so counter intuitive. Antuinet is actually an alchemist and she is resorting to the tricks of charlatans? My mind boggles. I have a real problem with people who have abilities, doesn't matter what kind, artistic, whatever, who resort to "alternative methods" to achieve what they want. Because it isn't fair! It's like plagiarism, you are getting credit for something you didn't do. Nope, nope, nope. Plus, just as an aside, wouldn't people see the baby and be like, nope, not what a homunculus is supposed to look like? No? Just me. As always. But then again... "When a mystery works with nature and not against it, it's hard to distinguish truth from fraud."

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Alchemy, Alpennia, Bloomsbury, Composer, Daughter of Mystery, Hamilton, Heather Rose Jones, Homunculus, Lesbian, Magic, Mother of Souls, Music, Opera, Regency Magic, Reglion, Ruritanian Romance, The Mystic Marriage