tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91861183295095534352024-03-17T20:00:24.742-07:00Exotic and irrational entertainment...books, opera, Bollywood, and other indefensible obsessionsPessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.comBlogger559125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-51920971839033192192024-03-01T05:45:00.000-08:002024-03-02T06:56:50.950-08:00Remembering Lorraine Hunt Lieberson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJM5ZbAnROQBpQlY5GMs6OyFxpR3gloUXjGtMB31xNQU4drAymoxsgZiCrNriq6be9CytaiP2uVtEQBHlPV3OV5chbk9XAv0c-Ni1WdlmKlhIMnA7EpgVsS1mLtCZNrGPkGjHcFIlgxo4VnSaH3buktpZN523goFj5UzDjT3Coip73E98JKlZ_WF0/s776/lorraine_hunt_operachic_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="600" height="621" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJM5ZbAnROQBpQlY5GMs6OyFxpR3gloUXjGtMB31xNQU4drAymoxsgZiCrNriq6be9CytaiP2uVtEQBHlPV3OV5chbk9XAv0c-Ni1WdlmKlhIMnA7EpgVsS1mLtCZNrGPkGjHcFIlgxo4VnSaH3buktpZN523goFj5UzDjT3Coip73E98JKlZ_WF0/s16000/lorraine_hunt_operachic_600.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, American mezzo-soprano, October 1, 2003. Photo credit: Richard Avedon. Image source: <a href="https://operachic.typepad.com/opera_chic/2010/03/world-premiere-of-peter-liebersons-songs-of-love-and-sorrow.html" target="_blank">Operachic</a></p>
<p>Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, born 1 March 1954, would have turned 70 today. It is a shock to realize that it has been almost 18 years since her tragic death from breast cancer on 3 July 2006, at the age of only 52.</p>
<p>We were incredibly fortunate to have been able to see her in performance four times: twice as the repudiated Empress Ottavia in Monteverdi's <i>L'incoronazione di Poppea</i> (The coronation of Poppea) at San Francisco Opera in the summer of 1998—her "Addio Roma, addio patria" was magnificent—and twice in recitals sponsored by UC Berkeley's Cal Performances: the first on 29 April 2001 in the cavernous Zellerbach Hall, and the second on 29 September 2002 in the more intimate wood-lined Hertz Hall. Although all of her appearances were memorable, the second recital was one of the most moving performances I've ever experienced.</p>
<p>In late January 1999 Lorraine Hunt was scheduled to perform a program of Bach's cantatas directed by Peter Sellars as part of the Cal Performances season; a second show was even added in early February. However, just two weeks before those performances were to take place they were cancelled "because of an illness in Hunt's family," according to the announcements that appeared. We later learned that her sister Alexis had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and Hunt cancelled the engagements to be with her. Alexis died in May 2000.</p>
<p>Two months before her sister's death, Hunt herself was diagnosed with the disease. The program of the 2002 recital was clearly a response to her diagnosis and her sister's death. Every song was about mortality and the imperative to grasp fleeting moments of joy, from the opening "Scherza infida" ("Mock me, faithless one," from Handel's <i>Ariodante</i>), in which the suicidal Ariodante seeks "the embrace of death," to the closing "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen," ("I am lost to the world," from Mahler's <i>Rückert-Lieder</i>), in which she sings "truly I am dead to the world./I am dead to the world’s clamor/And rest in a quiet place,/I live alone in my heaven,/In my love, in my song!"</p>
<p>Fortunately for us, her performances of some of the songs from this recital program were recorded. Here is Claude Debussy's "Beau soir," recorded at Alice Tully Hall in New York City on 20 October 2002. As in the Berkeley recital we attended three weeks earlier, Robert Tweten is her accompanist:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/1QgEAsJul18?start=0&end=190" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/1QgEAsJul18" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/1QgEAsJul18</a> ["Beau soir" ends at 3:10]</p>
<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="padding: 0px 15px; vertical-align: top;">
<b>Beau soir</b><br />
(Paul Bourget)<br /><br />
Lorsque au soleil couchant les rivières sont roses,<br />
Et qu'un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé,<br />
Un conseil d'être heureux semble sortir des choses<br />
Et monter vers le cœur troublé;<br /><br />
Un conseil de goûter le charme d'être au monde<br />
Cependant qu'on est jeune et que le soir est beau,<br />
Car nous nous en allons, comme s'en va cette onde:<br />
Elle à la mer — nous au tombeau!</td>
<td style="padding: 0px 15px; vertical-align: top;">
<b>Beautiful evening</b><br />
(My translation)<br /><br />
When at sunset the rivers turn pink<br />
And a mild breeze brushes the fields of wheat,<br />
Everything seems to urge contentment<br />
And ascend to a troubled heart;<br /><br />
To urge us to savor the delight of being in the world,<br />
While we are young and the evening so beautiful,<br />
For our life flows by, as do the waves:<br />
They to the sea — we to the tomb.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p>As in the recital we attended, on this recording "Beau soir" is followed after a pause by Ernest Chausson's "Le Colibri" (The hummingbird); if you want to keep listening you can find the words by Charles-Marie-René Leconte de Lisle together with a translation by Richard Stokes on the <a href="https://oxfordsong.org/song/le-colibri" target="_blank">Oxford International Song Festival</a> website.</p>
<p>The final song (and third encore) of the recital was her signature encore, the spiritual "Deep River," in which she sings "Deep river/My home is over Jordan/Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground." This recording was made live at the 2004 Ravinia Festival with Peter Serkin as her accompanist:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/iSkskC68eEQ?start=0&end=160" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/iSkskC68eEQ" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/iSkskC68eEQ</a> ["Deep River" ends at 2:40]</p>
<p>Although no recording can do justice to the experience of hearing this remarkable artist in person, many of her performances are available on audio or video. Among our favorites are the collections of Handel arias she recorded with the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra under musical director Nicholas McGegan, <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzb4y-rY-qs&list=OLAK5uy_n_cvSQUz_uHqZNQJCixYhVzqnGYnY0Mng" target="_blank">Arias for Durastanti</a></i> and <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8H3ubRVjy4&list=OLAK5uy_lpcxolqI-3T7LrzCkVP5wyyoV1vp9q0c8" target="_blank">Handel Arias</a></i> (there are four tracks in common). Supreme for me, of course, reigns her performance with the PBO of the Carthaginian queen Dido in Purcell's <i>Dido and Aeneas</i>. <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2015/05/attunement-conversion-experiences.html#dido" target="_blank">I've written elsewhere on this blog</a></b> about how <i>Dido and Aeneas</i> and Hunt's other Baroque opera and oratorio performances with PBO and McGegan played a major role in igniting our passion for Baroque opera—a gift for which we will always be profoundly grateful.</p>
<p>Dido's lament from the final scene of the opera:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/IKRjtUCbTmw" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/IKRjtUCbTmw" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/IKRjtUCbTmw</a></p>
<p>For more about what is was like to hear Lorraine Hunt Lieberson in performance, it would be difficult to find a warmer tribute than Alex Ross's "<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2006/09/25/fervor" target="_blank">Fervor</a>" (<i>The New Yorker</i>, 25 September 2006). Details in this post were also taken from the following articles:</p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.5em;">Joshua Kosman, "<a href="https://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/Singing-the-music-of-her-life-Lorraine-Hunt-2929115.php" target="_blank">Singing the music of her life: Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's programs express sorrow of illness, joy of marriage</a>," <i>San Francisco Chronicle</i>, 22 April 2001 [1]<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.5em;">Charles Michener, "<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2004/01/05/the-soul-singer" target="_blank">The soul singer</a>," <i>The New Yorker</i>, 5 January 2004</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.5em;">Anthony Tommasini. "<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/05/arts/music/05hunt.html" target="_blank">Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, luminous mezzo, dies at 52</a>," <i>New York Times</i>, 5 July 2006</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.5em;">Charlotte Higgins, "<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2006/jul/06/guardianobituaries.usa" target="_blank">Lorraine Hunt Lieberson: American opera singer renowned for her passionate, beautiful, bold interpretations</a>," <i>The Guardian</i>, 6 July 2006</li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.5em;">I believe that in this article Kosman mis-states the date of Lorraine Hunt's diagnosis; the date he gives of spring 1999 is contradicted by both Charles Michener's and Charlotte Higgins' accounts.<br />
<br />Perhaps this is also the place to mention that while Kosman can be an insightful critic, he seemed utterly oblivious to the wrenching theme of Hunt's 2002 recital. In his review in the <i>San Francisco Chronicle</i> (1 October 2002) Kosman wrote that the recital was "<a href="https://www.sfgate.com/music/article/mezzo-s-recital-a-patchwork-affair-2765891.php" target="_blank">an odd patchwork affair</a>" that "lacked something of the unnerving sublimity of Hunt Lieberson's previous performances" and, to him, felt like "[one] song after another." Sublimity is, of course, in the ear of the auditor, but Kosman seemed not to grasp the story Hunt was telling through her musical choices. Not only was the recital a thematically coherent meditation on death, it was also carefully structured (the songs were grouped by language), and deeply affecting. So, hardly a patchwork, and it's no closer to the mark to call it "an appealing sampler," as Kosman does in his first sentence.<br /></li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-24287701865619906432024-02-28T06:06:00.000-08:002024-03-03T20:56:10.933-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 6: Persuasion<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisE03YDwHsX8NjsjFBsYFpzjdENeRjZroYG6iRI0h3ywzL-JlkCKDISdw_FfIynJwQSqLVs1ahzJVPSYJRV9hSzb7HDxWonBmdUUnSStbHZmk4BTIlFum4zQt_02ZO7eUASOL0v0SuwRBH4H5K7btvJEmS0lPSHUjXq1o0MaOXuQFcYUSuGkkgDPPo/s1600/persuasion_1995_2.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="560" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisE03YDwHsX8NjsjFBsYFpzjdENeRjZroYG6iRI0h3ywzL-JlkCKDISdw_FfIynJwQSqLVs1ahzJVPSYJRV9hSzb7HDxWonBmdUUnSStbHZmk4BTIlFum4zQt_02ZO7eUASOL0v0SuwRBH4H5K7btvJEmS0lPSHUjXq1o0MaOXuQFcYUSuGkkgDPPo/s1600/persuasion_1995_2.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Ciarán Hinds (Captain Frederick Wentworth) and Amanda Root (Anne Elliot) in <i>Persuasion</i> (1995)</p>
<h4>Persuasion</h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background to the proposal scene:</b> Eight years ago, 19-year-old Anne Elliot became engaged to 23-year-old Commander Frederick Wentworth while he was on shore leave during the wars with Napoleon's France. But Anne's prudent neighbor, counsellor, friend, and surrogate mother Lady Russell strongly disapproved of the engagement. "Lady Russell had. . .of anything approaching to imprudence a horror. She deprecated the connexion in every light." Wentworth "had nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes of attaining affluence, but in the chances of a most uncertain profession, and no connexions to secure even his farther rise in the profession." Under intense pressure from her family and from Lady Russell, Anne broke their engagement, and the lovers separated.</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">Eight years on, Napoleon has been defeated (temporarily), and Wentworth, promoted to the rank of captain due to his skill and valor, and made rich by war prizes, has returned. [1] Anne and he have been thrown together, but relations between them remain strained: "Once so much to each other! Now nothing! There <i>had</i> been a time, when of all the large party now filling the drawing-room at Uppercross, they would have found it most difficult to cease to speak to one another. . .there could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement."</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">Two other couples are contrasted with Anne and Wentworth in this scene. Charles Hayter and Henrietta Musgrove, one of Anne's sisters-in-law, have faced parental hesitancy because the income from his living is not large, and the living itself is temporary. However, his prospects are good, and he will ultimately inherit a modest estate. Anne's other sister-in-law, Louisa Musgrove, has become engaged to Wentworth's former shipmate Captain Benwick while recovering from a fall from the Cobb at Lyme at the home of Wentworth's friend Captain Harville and his family. Benwick had been engaged to Captain Harville's sister Fanny until her unexpected death about six months ago. Before meeting Louisa, Benwick had been in mourning. Finally, Anne's cousin William Elliot, heir to her family's estate Kellynch, has been paying Anne decided attentions.<br /></p>
<p><b>The film:</b> screenplay by Nick Dear, directed by Roger Michell (1995)</p>
<p>In "<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/06/six-months-with-jane-austen-favorite.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorite Austen adaptations and final thoughts</b></a>" (did I say "<i>final</i> thoughts"?) I wrote, "Almost as great a miracle as the Jennifer Ehle–Colin Firth <i>Pride and Prejudice</i> adaptation of the same year, this version beautifully renders key scenes from Austen's novel (and, amazingly, is able to do so in under two hours). Both Root and Hinds are completely convincing as the estranged lovers who are suddenly reunited after eight years apart. It's clear, too, that great care has been taken in portraying locations, interiors, music, and other details from the novel. Not to be missed." (And all other <i>Persuasion</i> adaptations are to be avoided.)</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Bm3QywZFBuA?start=1424&end=1980" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=1424" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=1424</a></p>
<p><b>The novel:</b></p>
<blockquote><p>"And so, ma'am, all these thing considered," said Mrs Musgrove, in her powerful whisper, "though we could have wished it different, yet, altogether, we did not think it fair to stand out any longer, for Charles Hayter was quite wild about it, and Henrietta was pretty near as bad; and so we thought they had better marry at once, and make the best of it, as many others have done before them. At any rate, said I, it will be better than a long engagement."</p>
<p>"That is precisely what I was going to observe," cried Mrs Croft. "I would rather have young people settle on a small income at once, and have to struggle with a few difficulties together, than be involved in a long engagement. . ."</p>
<p>. . .Anne found an unexpected interest here. She felt its application to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over her; and at the same moment that her eyes instinctively glanced towards the distant table, Captain Wentworth's pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned round the next instant to give a look, one quick, conscious look at her.</p>
<p>The two ladies continued to talk, to re-urge the same admitted truths, and enforce them with such examples of the ill effect of a contrary practice as had fallen within their observation, but Anne heard nothing distinctly; it was only a buzz of words in her ear, her mind was in confusion.</p>
<p>Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it, now left his seat, and moved to a window, and Anne seeming to watch him, though it was from thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to join him where he stood. He looked at her with a smile, and a little motion of the head, which expressed, "Come to me, I have something to say;" and the unaffected, easy kindness of manner which denoted the feelings of an older acquaintance than he really was, strongly enforced the invitation. She roused herself and went to him. The window at which he stood was at the other end of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to Captain Wentworth's table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain Harville's countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful expression which seemed its natural character.</p>
<p>"Look here," said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying a small miniature painting, "do you know who that is?"</p>
<p>"Certainly: Captain Benwick."</p>
<p>"Yes, and you may guess who it is for. But," (in a deep tone), "it was not done for her. Miss Elliot, do you remember our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little thought then—but no matter. This was drawn at the Cape. He met with a clever young German artist at the Cape, and in compliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge of getting it properly set for another! It was a commission to me! But who else was there to employ? I hope I can allow for him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. He undertakes it;" (looking towards Captain Wentworth,) "he is writing about it now." And with a quivering lip he wound up the whole by adding, "Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!"</p>
<p>"No," replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. "That I can easily believe."</p>
<p>"It was not in her nature. She doted on him."</p>
<p>"It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved."</p>
<p>Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, "Do you claim that for your sex?" and she answered the question, smiling also, "Yes. We certainly do not forget you as soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions."</p>
<p>"Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men (which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Benwick. He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us, in our little family circle, ever since."</p>
<p>"True," said Anne, "very true; I did not recollect; but what shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature, man's nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick."</p>
<p>"No, no, it is not man's nature. I will not allow it to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or have loved. I believe the reverse. . .We shall never agree upon this question," Captain Harville was beginning to say, when a slight noise called their attention to Captain Wentworth's hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. It was nothing more than that his pen had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen because he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she did not think he could have caught.</p>
<p>"Have you finished your letter?" said Captain Harville.</p>
<p>"Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes."</p>
<p>"There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever you are. I am in very good anchorage here," (smiling at Anne), "well supplied, and want for nothing. No hurry for a signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot," (lowering his voice), "as I was saying, we shall never agree, I suppose, upon this point. No man and woman would, probably. But let me observe that all histories are against you—all stories, prose and verse. If I had such a memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment on my side the argument, and I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman's inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman's fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written by men."</p>
<p>"Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything."</p>
<p>"But how shall we prove anything?"</p>
<p>"We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does not admit of proof. We each begin, probably, with a little bias towards our own sex; and upon that bias build every circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our own circle; many of which circumstances (perhaps those very cases which strike us the most) may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward without betraying a confidence, or in some respect saying what should not be said."</p>
<p>"Ah!" cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, "if I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes a last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and says, 'God knows whether we ever meet again!' And then, if I could convey to you the glow of his soul when he does see them again; when, coming back after a twelvemonth's absence, perhaps, and obliged to put into another port, he calculates how soon it be possible to get them there, pretending to deceive himself, and saying, 'They cannot be here till such a day,' but all the while hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them arrive at last, as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours sooner still! If I could explain to you all this, and all that a man can bear and do, and glories to do, for the sake of these treasures of his existence! I speak, you know, only of such men as have hearts!" pressing his own with emotion.</p>
<p>"Oh!" cried Anne eagerly, "I hope I do justice to all that is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were known only by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great and good in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important exertion, and to every domestic forbearance, so long as—if I may be allowed the expression—so long as you have an object. I mean while the woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone."</p>
<p>She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed.</p>
<p>"You are a good soul," cried Captain Harville, putting his hand on her arm, quite affectionately. "There is no quarrelling with you. And when I think of Benwick, my tongue is tied."</p>
<p>Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft was taking leave.</p>
<p>"Here, Frederick, you and I part company, I believe," said she. "I am going home, and you have an engagement with your friend. To-night we may have the pleasure of all meeting again at your party," (turning to Anne). "We had your sister's card yesterday, and I understood Frederick had a card too, though I did not see it; and you are disengaged, Frederick, are you not, as well as ourselves?"</p>
<p>Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, and either could not or would not answer fully.</p>
<p>"Yes," said he, "very true; here we separate, but Harville and I shall soon be after you; that is, Harville, if you are ready, I am in half a minute. I know you will not be sorry to be off. I shall be at your service in half a minute."</p>
<p>Mrs Croft left them, and Captain Wentworth, having sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, and had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed impatience to be gone. Anne knew not how to understand it. She had the kindest "Good morning, God bless you!" from Captain Harville, but from him not a word, nor a look! He had passed out of the room without a look!</p>
<p>She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before Mrs Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant!</p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih394dOqheAetYEQXphnGbj5pkqsGlRBX3Y1TsG75cp5lC5wcUhOVDgR-EBou__pbdj75RMS9-XHIO4uEuANMuG9h2pxmAhrcmQv4Q_vr1_yzf8C7mxvp3kityLAbZZYEfq8Q_m-sN3SDn3J4QoXGLKE4kXiX8tE0ietBYnEq0fQbOzxmb0sr5pZ1A/s746/persuasion_brock_dent_1922_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="746" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih394dOqheAetYEQXphnGbj5pkqsGlRBX3Y1TsG75cp5lC5wcUhOVDgR-EBou__pbdj75RMS9-XHIO4uEuANMuG9h2pxmAhrcmQv4Q_vr1_yzf8C7mxvp3kityLAbZZYEfq8Q_m-sN3SDn3J4QoXGLKE4kXiX8tE0ietBYnEq0fQbOzxmb0sr5pZ1A/s16000/persuasion_brock_dent_1922_480.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Placed it before Anne." Illustration by Charles E. Brock for <i>Persuasion</i> (Dent, 1922). Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015007028700&seq=246&view=1up" target="_blank">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<blockquote><p>The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond expression. The letter, with a direction hardly legible, to "Miss A. E.—," was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:</p>
<p>"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">F. W.</p>
<p>"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."</p></blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqlaL1srIKMVL-SASqmCgJq-OlJaLBiby4lG-Yq5g92R9Tj3V6LkctUay5zpduicgo-Rpz6nuJ_v7RTH1qA43I8OKuWUmhz8RmfupPOkNnwjdCaFi4nHOjw1QX5q929BbgCuOlaN7aLbYF8RROvzv8QuOJiP2wnRu4XvGiyRw7zuljsTJpMhNNlbe/s740/persuasion_cooke_hathitrust_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="740" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqlaL1srIKMVL-SASqmCgJq-OlJaLBiby4lG-Yq5g92R9Tj3V6LkctUay5zpduicgo-Rpz6nuJ_v7RTH1qA43I8OKuWUmhz8RmfupPOkNnwjdCaFi4nHOjw1QX5q929BbgCuOlaN7aLbYF8RROvzv8QuOJiP2wnRu4XvGiyRw7zuljsTJpMhNNlbe/s16000/persuasion_cooke_hathitrust_480.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Wentworth's letter." Illustration by William C. Cooke for <i>Persuasion</i> (Dent, 1895). Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b000875634&seq=257&view=1up" target="_blank">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<blockquote>
<p>Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half an hour's solitude and reflection might have tranquillized her; but the ten minutes only which now passed before she was interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, could do nothing towards tranquillity. Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was overpowering happiness. And before she was beyond the first stage of full sensation, Charles, Mary, and Henrietta all came in.</p>
<p>The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced then an immediate struggle; but after a while she could do no more. She began not to understand a word they said, and was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse herself. They could then see that she looked very ill, were shocked and concerned, and would not stir without her for the world. This was dreadful. Would they only have gone away, and left her in the quiet possession of that room it would have been her cure; but to have them all standing or waiting around her was distracting, and in desperation, she said she would go home.</p>
<p>"By all means, my dear," cried Mrs Musgrove, "go home directly, and take care of yourself, that you may be fit for the evening. I wish Sarah was here to doctor you, but I am no doctor myself. Charles, ring and order a chair. She must not walk."</p>
<p>But the chair would never do. Worse than all! To lose the possibility of speaking two words to Captain Wentworth in the course of her quiet, solitary progress up the town (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) could not be borne. The chair was earnestly protested against, and Mrs Musgrove, who thought only of one sort of illness, having assured herself with some anxiety, that there had been no fall in the case; that Anne had not at any time lately slipped down, and got a blow on her head; that she was perfectly convinced of having had no fall; could part with her cheerfully, and depend on finding her better at night.</p>
<p>Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, and said—</p>
<p>"I am afraid, ma'am, that it is not perfectly understood. Pray be so good as to mention to the other gentlemen that we hope to see your whole party this evening. I am afraid there had been some mistake; and I wish you particularly to assure Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth, that we hope to see them both."</p>
<p>"Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. Captain Harville has no thought but of going."</p>
<p>"Do you think so? But I am afraid; and I should be so very sorry. Will you promise me to mention it, when you see them again? You will see them both this morning, I dare say. Do promise me."</p>
<p>"To be sure I will, if you wish it. Charles, if you see Captain Harville anywhere, remember to give Miss Anne's message. But indeed, my dear, you need not be uneasy. Captain Harville holds himself quite engaged, I'll answer for it; and Captain Wentworth the same, I dare say."</p>
<p>Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity. It could not be very lasting, however. Even if he did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intelligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary vexation occurred. Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long ungrateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith's, to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent.</p>
<p>They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments' preparation for the sight of Captain Wentworth. He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said nothing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, struck by a sudden thought, Charles said—</p>
<p>"Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or farther up the town?"</p>
<p>"I hardly know," replied Captain Wentworth, surprised.</p>
<p>"Are you going as high as Belmont? Are you going near Camden Place? Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in asking you to take my place, and give Anne your arm to her father's door. She is rather done for this morning, and must not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that fellow's in the Market Place. He promised me the sight of a capital gun he is just going to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not turn back now, I have no chance. By his description, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of mine, which you shot with one day round Winthrop."</p>
<p>There could not be an objection. There could be only the most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in private rapture. In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of Union Street again, and the other two proceeding together: and soon words enough had passed between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively quiet and retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would make the present hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for all the immortality which the happiest recollections of their own future lives could bestow. There they exchanged again those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed to secure everything, but which had been followed by so many, many years of division and estrangement. There they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other's character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more justified in acting. And there, as they slowly paced the gradual ascent, heedless of every group around them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, bustling housekeepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids and children, they could indulge in those retrospections and acknowledgements, and especially in those explanations of what had directly preceded the present moment, which were so poignant and so ceaseless in interest. All the little variations of the last week were gone through; and of yesterday and to-day there could scarcely be an end.</p>
<p>She had not mistaken him. Jealousy of Mr Elliot had been the retarding weight, the doubt, the torment. That had begun to operate in the very hour of first meeting her in Bath; that had returned, after a short suspension, to ruin the concert; and that had influenced him in everything he had said and done, or omitted to say and do, in the last four-and-twenty hours. It had been gradually yielding to the better hopes which her looks, or words, or actions occasionally encouraged; it had been vanquished at last by those sentiments and those tones which had reached him while she talked with Captain Harville; and under the irresistible governance of which he had seized a sheet of paper, and poured out his feelings.</p>
<p>Of what he had then written, nothing was to be retracted or qualified. He persisted in having loved none but her. She had never been supplanted. He never even believed himself to see her equal. Thus much indeed he was obliged to acknowledge: that he had been constant unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that he had meant to forget her, and believed it to be done. He had imagined himself indifferent, when he had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been a sufferer from them. Her character was now fixed on his mind as perfection itself, maintaining the loveliest medium of fortitude and gentleness. . ."I have been used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils and just rewards. Like other great men under reverses," he added, with smile, "I must endeavour to subdue my mind to my fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve."</p></blockquote>
<p>When I read <i>Persuasion</i> for the first time in college, I did not understand the necessity of Wentworth's letter. Why could he not simply take Anne aside and "pour out his feelings"? I did not grasp the social constraints under which they were both operating: Anne always being with relatives and friends, the streets and public rooms of Bath always crowded with people, and there being no private place where an unrelated man and woman could sequester themselves to have an intensely personal conversation.</p>
<p>Screenwriter Nick Dear wisely lets Austen's characters speak the words she gave them (judiciously edited). I particularly admire the way Anne and Wentworth's voices alternate and overlap as the letter is read, signifying the mutuality of their feelings.</p>
<p>Some people with whom I've viewed this adaptation of <i>Persuasion</i> have expressed mixed feelings about the circus parade passing down the street at the moment of the proposal; shouldn't there be swelling romantic music on the soundtrack rather than blaring clarinets and pounding drums? But I think the clamorous parade serves two purposes: first, it contrasts the noise and bustle of public spectacle with the still, almost wordless private communication between the couple. And second, there is no possible way that Anne and Wentworth could kiss on the street to seal their engagement without a major distraction drawing away everyone else's attention and (for those facing them from the other side of the street) blocking the couple from view.<br /></p>
<p><i>Persuasion</i> is Austen's most deeply felt novel. And in Nick Dear's and Roger Michell's television version, it has found a most worthy adaptation.</p>
<p>For more on the novel, please see "<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/06/six-months-with-jane-austen-persuasion.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Persuasion</i> and war</b></a>" and "<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/06/six-months-with-jane-austen-persuasion_9.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Persuasion</i> and Austen's sailor brothers</b></a>"</p>
<p><b>Previous posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-5.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Northanger Abbey</b></i></a></li>
<li><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-4-emma.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Emma</b></i></a></li>
<li><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-3.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Mansfield Park</b></i></a></li>
<li><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-2.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Pride and Prejudice</b></i></a></li>
<li><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-1.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Sense and Sensibility</b></i></a></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol><li>As usual in an Austen novel, we are told (or can determine) exactly how rich: Wentworth has "five-and-twenty thousand pounds," undoubtedly invested in Navy five percent bonds, yielding an annual income of £1250. If war comes again—spoiler alert: it will—he will have the opportunity to earn more prize money by capturing enemy ships. In addition, on active duty he receives a salary of about £400, and while on leave receives half-pay. In <i>Sense and Sensibility</i>, Elinor Dashwood describes an income of £1000 as the wealth necessary for happiness and comfort.<br /></li></ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-30305301798548358352024-02-26T06:04:00.000-08:002024-02-27T20:52:20.272-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 5: Northanger Abbey<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9joGjG9cs6JdLjIVy5wHu5hxXv6Yxj5iPnFXkrDvZo_LwSqu7w_fi0_DxuBb34eiC4-JEekgGAPkTwS08j-MvxrkM7mb4fRsugzQmuBSY5cH2uUAG4_05RVBJBeQPTUV_YnI9u8U57S42ntwtUqSc_lGU5t314Ic_6IaZg_oAl2Ys6LpuFhzzgeG/s1600/northanger_abbey_2007_2_600.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9joGjG9cs6JdLjIVy5wHu5hxXv6Yxj5iPnFXkrDvZo_LwSqu7w_fi0_DxuBb34eiC4-JEekgGAPkTwS08j-MvxrkM7mb4fRsugzQmuBSY5cH2uUAG4_05RVBJBeQPTUV_YnI9u8U57S42ntwtUqSc_lGU5t314Ic_6IaZg_oAl2Ys6LpuFhzzgeG/s1600/northanger_abbey_2007_2_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">J.J. Feild (Henry Tilney) and Felicity Jones (Catherine Morland) in <i>Northanger Abbey</i> (2007)</p>
<h4>Northanger Abbey</h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background to the proposal scene: </b>While on a visit to Bath with her neighbors the Allens, Catherine Morland made the acquaintance of Eleanor Tilney and her brother Henry. Their father, General Tilney, in the mistaken belief that Catherine was a rich heiress, invited her to return with the family to their estate, Northanger Abbey, on an extended visit. The ancient mansion excited Catherine's fantasies, already fired by a steady diet of Gothic romances such as Ann Radcliffe's <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2022/12/favorites-of-2022-books.html" target="_blank">The Mysteries of Udolpho</a></b></i>, and she imagined that the General practiced cruelties against his wife. When Henry learned of her suspicions, he remonstrated with her: "Dearest Miss Morland, what ideas have you been admitting?" Catherine concluded that "Charming as were all Mrs. Radcliffe's works, and charming even as were the works of all her imitators, it was not in them perhaps that human nature, at least in the Midland counties of England, was to be looked for."</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">General Tilney had left Northanger Abbey for a week. When he returned late one night, he abruptly insisted that Catherine leave, and early the very next morning sent her on the long journey home by herself. Her sudden dismissal was "as incomprehensible as it was
mortifying and grievous." She has been back at home for just a few days, passing her time in "silence and sadness," when an unexpected visitor arrives. . .</p>
<p><b>The television adaptation:</b> screenplay by Andrew Davies, directed by Jon Jones (2007)</p><p>Although compressed to a 90-minute running time, this ITV adaptation covers the major events of the novel, has an excellent and appropriately youthful cast (as Catherine, Felicity Jones really does look as though she could be in her late teens), and includes many witty touches, such as the visualization of Catherine's vivid Gothic fantasies. <br /></p><p></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Bm3QywZFBuA?start=18&end=289&cc_load_policy=1" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=18" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=18</a> [scene ends at 4:49]</p><p style="text-align: left;"><b>The novel:</b> <br /></p>
<blockquote><p>. . .[Mrs. Morland] knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before. With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as "Mr. Henry Tilney," with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland's having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father's misconduct, Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past.</p></blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioE01VL4hnyLzEXF96n_Ij7kb027OZYh4JoZG8zCgKDoTrJ9wniNqL9sA-NWRSg0ZawjGjfV8zLtKCJLulMAgpGyrq1gbBbvzLrVYS2_NJBgDKHV5MFIwONM444sSIjcceVqzw39WTp4Aj2LijW994FTZYXdjMtkZnJv4K3_Y1KTHmXLIUxmBe6BxL/s731/northanger_abbey_brock.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="456" height="731" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioE01VL4hnyLzEXF96n_Ij7kb027OZYh4JoZG8zCgKDoTrJ9wniNqL9sA-NWRSg0ZawjGjfV8zLtKCJLulMAgpGyrq1gbBbvzLrVYS2_NJBgDKHV5MFIwONM444sSIjcceVqzw39WTp4Aj2LijW994FTZYXdjMtkZnJv4K3_Y1KTHmXLIUxmBe6BxL/s16000/northanger_abbey_brock.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Introduced. . .as 'Mr. Henry Tilney.'" Illustration by C.E. Brock for <i>Northanger Abbey</i> (Dent, 1922). Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.31158008377706&seq=229&view=1up" target="_blank">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<blockquote><p>He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs. Morland's common remarks about the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile—the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine—said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time. . .</p></blockquote><p>So there is no arrival on a white horse in the novel, and Mrs. Morland does not interrupt the <i>éclaircissement</i> between the lovers by inviting the visitor into the drawing room (instead she finds him already there). But Davies can be forgiven, I think, for wanting to make Henry's arrival more dramatic. And the script nicely captures the awkwardness of the attempts to make conversation in the parlor, as well as Henry's anxiousness to escape and speak to Catherine in private.<br /></p><blockquote>
<p>. . .at the end of a quarter of an hour [Mrs. Morland] had nothing to say. After a couple of minutes' unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine for the first time since her mother's entrance, asked her, with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable would have given, immediately expressed his intention of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour, asked her if she would have the goodness to show him the way. "You may see the house from this window, sir," was information on Sarah's side, which produced only a bow of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable, as a secondary consideration in his wish of waiting on their worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation to give of his father's behaviour, which it must be more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine, would not on any account prevent her accompanying him. They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation on his father's account he had to give; but his first purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached Mr. Allen's grounds he had done it so well that Catherine did not think it could ever be repeated too often. She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine's dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own.</p>
<p>. . .as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain the motives of his father’s conduct, her feelings soon hardened into even a triumphant delight. The General had had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge, but her being the involuntary, unconscious object of a deception which his pride could not pardon, and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own. She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed her to be. Under a mistaken persuasion of her possessions and claims, he had courted her acquaintance in Bath, solicited her company at Northanger, and designed her for his daughter-in-law. On discovering his error, to turn her from the house seemed the best, though to his feelings an inadequate proof of his resentment towards herself, and his contempt of her family.</p>
<p>. . .Catherine, at any rate, heard enough to feel that in suspecting General Tilney of either murdering or shutting up his wife, she had scarcely sinned against his character, or magnified his cruelty.</p></blockquote>
<p>In the television adaptation, of course, the explanation and condemnation of his father's conduct comes before Henry's proposal, rather than afterward. And this is where the greatest divergence with Austen's novel occurs. In Davies' script Henry compares his father's behavior towards his wife to "vampirism" (a word that does not appear in Austen's novel), and says that "our mother did suffer grievously. . .we did watch him drain the life out of her." In the novel, however, when Henry finds Catherine in his mother's now-unused room, he tells her, "You have erred in supposing him not attached to her. He loved her, I am persuaded, as well as it was possible for him to—we have not all, you know, the same tenderness of disposition—and I will not pretend to say that while she lived, she might not often have had much to bear, but though his temper injured her, his judgment never did. His value of her was sincere; and, if not permanently, he was truly afflicted by her death" (from a sudden illness, not ill-treatment).</p><p>Understandably, given the 90-minute running time, Davies omits the General's ultimate acquiescence to his younger son's choice of fiancée (instead he has Henry say "I've broken with my father"). As a result he must also eliminate the felicitous idea that the several months' delay in their marriage occasioned by the General's initial lack of consent helped the young couple to know and love one another better. But, of course, Davies takes the irresistible final words directly from Austen.<br /></p><blockquote>
<p>. . .Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang, and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting, it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays occasioned by the General's cruelty, that they were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the General's unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.</p></blockquote>
<p><b>For more on the novel, please see "</b> <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/05/six-months-with-jane-austen-northanger.html"><b><i>Northanger Abbey</i> and women writers and readers</b></a>"</p>
<p><b> </b></p><p><b>Next time:</b> <i>Persuasion</i></p><p><b>Previous posts in this series:</b></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-4-emma.html" target="_blank">Emma</a></b></i></li><li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-3.html" target="_blank">Mansfield Park</a></b></i></li><li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-2.html" target="_blank">Pride and Prejudice</a></b></i></li><li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-1.html" target="_blank">Sense and Sensibility</a></b></i><br /></li></ul><p></p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-12294170992923809532024-02-25T07:49:00.000-08:002024-02-25T10:52:11.451-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 4: Emma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6eth8GzhnkImatcVgKTvb8J7m7FteDWTqr8stN3Str3OlmKevYzFbw_3m66tEHWUJK3zOtWbNKZKD37tkkPyrf6_KTVZ6xmyCdKK-hSMo-EQYOVS93fmvOJZmDOQB2YbN5T6U5jrKtXw5pNBNFHg6pWj9mZM2uIka76OpvBHbzxqMk7RqScBuNq4/s600/emma_1996-4_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="600" height="405" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6eth8GzhnkImatcVgKTvb8J7m7FteDWTqr8stN3Str3OlmKevYzFbw_3m66tEHWUJK3zOtWbNKZKD37tkkPyrf6_KTVZ6xmyCdKK-hSMo-EQYOVS93fmvOJZmDOQB2YbN5T6U5jrKtXw5pNBNFHg6pWj9mZM2uIka76OpvBHbzxqMk7RqScBuNq4/s16000/emma_1996-4_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Gwyneth Paltrow (Emma) and Jeremy Northam (Mr. Knightley) in <i>Emma</i> (1996)</p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Emma</b></h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background to the proposal scene:</b> In <i>Emma</i> the proposal scene is longer and more dialogic than in many other Austen novels. Partly this is because, as in <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>, there must be two <i>éclaircissements</i>. Emma fears that Mr. Knightley wants to tell her of his planned engagement to Harriet Smith, while Mr. Knightley fears that Emma wants to tell him of her unhappiness over Frank Churchill's marriage to another woman, Jane Fairfax. Unlike in <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>, though, the ground for a truer understanding between the lovers has not been prepared beforehand by others. In <i>Emma</i> they must flounder towards the recognition that they are each suffering under a misapprehension.</p>
<p><b>The film adaptation:</b> screenplay and direction by Douglas McGrath (1996)</p>
<p>Even though the 1996 adaptation isn't our favorite (that honor belongs to the 2009 BBC adaptation written by Sandy Welch and directed by Jim O'Hanlon, with Romola Garai as Emma and Jonny Lee Miller as Mr. Knightley), I was surprised to see that it is relatively faithful to the novel. And it has an excellent Mr. Knightley in Jeremy Northam:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/--Pkgs35eTE?cc_load_policy=1&start=128" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/--Pkgs35eTE?t=128" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/--Pkgs35eTE?t=128</a></p>
<p><b>The novel:</b></p>
<blockquote><p>They walked together. He was silent. She thought he was often looking at her, and trying for a fuller view of her face than it suited her to give. And this belief produced another dread. Perhaps he wanted to speak to her, of his attachment to Harriet; he might be watching for encouragement to begin.—She did not, could not, feel equal to lead the way to any such subject. He must do it all himself. Yet she could not bear this silence. With him it was most unnatural. She considered—resolved—and, trying to smile, began—</p>
<p>"You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you."</p>
<p>"Have I?" said he quietly, and looking at her; "of what nature?"</p>
<p>"Oh! the best nature in the world—a wedding."</p>
<p>After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,</p>
<p>"If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already."</p>
<p>"How is it possible?" cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard's in his way.</p>
<p>"I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened."</p>
<p>Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,</p>
<p>"<i>You</i> probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.—I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.—I wish I had attended to it—but—(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness."</p>
<p>For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,</p>
<p>"Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.—Your own excellent sense—your exertions for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—." Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, "The feelings of the warmest friendship—Indignation—Abominable scoundrel!"—And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, "He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for <i>her</i>. She deserves a better fate."</p>
<p>Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,</p>
<p>"You are very kind—but you are mistaken—and I must set you right.— I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier."</p>
<p>"Emma!" cried he, looking eagerly at her, "are you, indeed?"—but checking himself—"No, no, I understand you—forgive me—I am pleased that you can say even so much.—He is no object of regret, indeed! and it will not be very long, I hope, before that becomes the acknowledgment of more than your reason.—Fortunate that your affections were not farther entangled!—I could never, I confess, from your manners, assure myself as to the degree of what you felt—I could only be certain that there was a preference—and a preference which I never believed him to deserve.—He is a disgrace to the name of man.—And is he to be rewarded with that sweet young woman?—Jane, Jane, you will be a miserable creature."</p>
<p>"Mr. Knightley," said Emma, trying to be lively, but really confused—"I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.—But I never have."</p>
<p>He listened in perfect silence. She wished him to speak, but he would not. She supposed she must say more before she were entitled to his clemency; but it was a hard case to be obliged still to lower herself in his opinion. She went on, however.</p>
<p>"I have very little to say for my own conduct.—I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.—. . .my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however—for some time, indeed—I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.—I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.—It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself—except that I was <i>not</i> blinded—that it was my good fortune—that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."</p>
<p>She had hoped for an answer here—for a few words to say that her conduct was at least intelligible; but he was silent; and, as far as she could judge, deep in thought. At last, and tolerably in his usual tone, he said,</p>
". . .Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.—He meets with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent treatment—and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.—His aunt is in the way.—His aunt dies.—He has only to speak.—His friends are eager to promote his happiness.—He had used every body ill—and they are all delighted to forgive him.—He is a fortunate man indeed!"
<p>"You speak as if you envied him."</p>
<p>"And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy."</p>
<p>Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible. She made her plan; she would speak of something totally different—the children in Brunswick Square; and she only waited for breath to begin, when Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,</p>
<p>"You will not ask me what is the point of envy.—You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.—You are wise—but <i>I</i> cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."</p>
<p>"Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it," she eagerly cried. "Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself."</p>
<p>"Thank you," said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed.</p>
<p>Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her—perhaps to consult her;—cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it; she might give just praise to Harriet, or, by representing to him his own independence, relieve him from that state of indecision, which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his.—They had reached the house.</p>
<p>"You are going in, I suppose?" said he.</p>
<p>"No,"—replied Emma—quite confirmed by the depressed manner in which he still spoke—"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone." And, after proceeding a few steps, she added—"I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.—But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation—as a friend, indeed, you may command me.—I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think."</p>
<p>"As a friend!"—repeated Mr. Knightley.—"Emma, that I fear is a word—No, I have no wish—Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?—I have gone too far already for concealment.—Emma, I accept your offer—Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.—Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?"</p>
<p>He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her.</p></blockquote>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"He stopped to look the question." Illustration by Hugh Thomson for <i>Emma</i> (Macmillan, 1897). Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t6vx0cg1t&seq=411&view=1up" target="_blank">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<blockquote><p>"My dearest Emma," said he, "for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour's conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma—tell me at once. Say 'No,' if it is to be said."—She could really say nothing.—"You are silent," he cried, with great animation; "absolutely silent! at present I ask no more."</p>
<p>Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling.</p></blockquote>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"'Say "No" if it is to be said.' She could really say nothing." Illustration by Chris[tiana] Hammond for <i>Emma</i> (George Allen, 1898). Imge source: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Houghton_Typ_805.98.1770_-_Emma,_p_444.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a></p>
<p>This is where the screenplay diverges from Austen's novel. In the novel Mr. Knightley says "I. . .refer myself to you as a friend." In the film he says, "I do not wish to call you my friend because. . .I hope to call you something infinitely more dear." In the novel he goes on:<br /></p>
<blockquote><p>"I cannot make speeches, Emma:" he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.—"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.—You hear nothing but truth from me.—I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.—Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.—But you understand me.—Yes, you see, you understand my feelings—and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice."</p></blockquote>
<p>Austen, of course, is having a little joke here. Mr. Knightley says "I cannot make speeches"—and then launches into a speech (as he has done throughout the novel). Intriguingly, as soon as he says "I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice," Austen provides no more direct speech:</p>
<blockquote><p>While he spoke, Emma's mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity of thought, had been able—and yet without losing a word—to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet's hopes had been entirely groundless, a mistake, a delusion, as complete a delusion as any of her own—that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself. . .Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.—She spoke then, on being so entreated.—What did she say?—Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.—She said enough to shew there need not be despair—and to invite him to say more himself. </p></blockquote>
<p>In the novel Emma says "just what she ought. A lady always does." But she does not immediately accept him; rather, she says only enough "to shew there need not be despair—and to invite him to say more himself." In the film, Mr. Knightley goes on to explain his aversion to Frank Churchill, material drawn from somewhat further on in the scene in the novel:</p>
<blockquote><p>—On his side, there had been a long-standing jealousy, old as the arrival, or even the expectation, of Frank Churchill.—He had been in love with Emma, and jealous of Frank Churchill, from about the same period, one sentiment having probably enlightened him as to the other. It was his jealousy of Frank Churchill that had taken him from the country.—The Box Hill party had decided him on going away. He would save himself from witnessing again such permitted, encouraged attentions.—He had gone to learn to be indifferent.—But he had gone to a wrong place. There was too much domestic happiness in his brother's house; woman wore too amiable a form in it; Isabella was too much like Emma—differing only in those striking inferiorities, which always brought the other in brilliancy before him, for much to have been done, even had his time been longer.—He had stayed on, however, vigorously, day after day—till this very morning's post had conveyed the history of Jane Fairfax.—Then, with the gladness which must be felt, nay, which he did not scruple to feel, having never believed Frank Churchill to be at all deserving Emma, was there so much fond solicitude, so much keen anxiety for her, that he could stay no longer. He had ridden home through the rain; and had walked up directly after dinner, to see how this sweetest and best of all creatures, faultless in spite of all her faults, bore the discovery.</p></blockquote>
<p>In the film, of course, after his somewhat sheepish confession of jealousy comes the proposal and acceptance. In the novel, after she has invited Mr. Knightley to say more, it is soon clear that Emma returns his feelings and accepts his offer. We never see or hear her acceptance, however, only its effects:</p>
<blockquote><p>. . .he had only, in the momentary conquest of eagerness over judgment, aspired to be told that she did not forbid his attempt to attach her.—The superior hopes which gradually opened were so much the more enchanting.—The affection, which he had been asking to be allowed to create, if he could, was already his!—Within half an hour, he had passed from a thoroughly distressed state of mind, to something so like perfect happiness, that it could bear no other name.</p>
<p><i>Her</i> change was equal.—This one half-hour had given to each the same precious certainty of being beloved, had cleared from each the same degree of ignorance, jealousy, or distrust. . .She was his own Emma, by hand and word, when they returned into the house; and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then, he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow.</p></blockquote>
<p>Once again, Austen has shifted into the third person at the moment of the proposal, and denies us even a description of Emma's acceptance. But this is yet more evidence that for her, the crucial moment is actually the <i>éclaircissement</i>, rather than the proposal itself.</p>
<p><i>Emma</i> is notable in the Austen canon in the placement of its proposal scene. Just as a proposal and acceptance follow an <i>éclaircissement</i> as a matter of course, the end of a novel generally follows a proposal. In <i>Mansfield Park</i> the proposal occurs in the final chapter, and the novel ends two pages later. In <i>Sense and Sensibility</i>, <i>Northanger Abbey</i>, and <i>Persuasion</i>, the proposal occurs in the next-to-last chapter, and the novel ends 19, 9, and 12 pages later, respectively. In <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>, it's true that the proposal occurs in the fourth chapter from the end, but those four chapters are short: Darcy tells Elizabeth that "My affections and wishes are unchanged" on page 366, and the novel ends 22 pages later. However, after Emma and Mr. Knightley return to the house betrothed, <i>Emma</i> doesn't end for another six chapters and 51 pages (all page counts taken from R.W. Chapman's editions). This reflects the novel's complexity: there are three couples with past mistakes to explain and futures to be sorted out, rather than one or two, before Emma and Mr. Knightley can enjoy their "perfect happiness."</p>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"The wedding was very much like other weddings." Illustration by Chris Hammond for <i>Emma</i> (George Allen, 1898). Image source: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Houghton_Typ_805.98.1770_-_Emma,_p_500.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a></p>
<p><b>For more on the novel</b>, please see "<b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/04/six-months-with-jane-austen-emma-and.html" target="_blank">Emma and the fate of unmarried women</a></b>"</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <i>Northanger Abbey</i></p>
<p><b>Previous posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-3.html" target="_blank">Mansfield Park</a></b></i></li>
<li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-2.html" target="_blank">Pride and Prejudice</a></b></i></li>
<li><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-1.html" target="_blank">Sense and Sensibility</a></b></i></li></ul>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-11577602090511261152024-02-24T06:18:00.000-08:002024-02-25T10:12:37.294-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 3: Mansfield Park<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjn3Sdu9fc1VfnBsaCOOcDIV8Seo4wA4J5aU4dsZ1eF7IxtEV9w3Zv8-cynPwg832RKiwOwNe5zHRE-3QVYQl5hdGFHbWLWTxi0KMzUI3-sAT5tLlDZ6QMeV9IoDKnSKnku5Wz0n1zuKNhGKdBC4yhedJiATL4slv90Pja73X0wopDUSBH1NKmkZi/s1600/mansfield_park_1999_2.jpg" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="560" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjn3Sdu9fc1VfnBsaCOOcDIV8Seo4wA4J5aU4dsZ1eF7IxtEV9w3Zv8-cynPwg832RKiwOwNe5zHRE-3QVYQl5hdGFHbWLWTxi0KMzUI3-sAT5tLlDZ6QMeV9IoDKnSKnku5Wz0n1zuKNhGKdBC4yhedJiATL4slv90Pja73X0wopDUSBH1NKmkZi/s1600/mansfield_park_1999_2.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Frances O'Connor (Fanny Price) in <i>Mansfield Park</i> (1999)</p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">Mansfield Park</h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background to the proposal scene:</b> Fanny Price came to live with her rich relatives the Bertrams when she was 10 years old. Her cousin Edmund, six years her senior, showed her attention and kindness. Eight years later, Mary Crawford moves into the neighborhood, and Edmund becomes infatuated with her; of Fanny's steadfast love he is completely oblivious.<br /></p>
<p><b>The film adaptation:</b> screenplay and direction by Patricia Rozema (1999)<br /></p>
<p><i>Mansfield Park</i> has suffered the most distortions in its adaptations, perhaps because none of the adaptors to date (except perhaps Kenneth Taylor in the 6-episode BBC TV series (1983), which I haven't yet seen) have fully trusted in their source material. In particular, adaptors seem unable to prevent themselves from altering the character of its heroine, Fanny Price.</p>
<p>In the 2007 ITV series written by Maggie Wadey and directed by Iain MacDonald, the shy, apprehensive Fanny was portrayed by Billie Piper as witty, assertive, active, and far too superficially attractive: Fanny Price as Mary Crawford. Of course, this makes it impossible for us to believe that Edmund Bertram would remain so oblivious to her all-too-obvious charms.</p>
<p>In the 1999 film, Fanny (Frances O'Connor) is a budding writer who addresses the camera and the viewer directly, and leaves balled-up drafts (written on very expensive paper) scattered all over her desk and floor. Writer/director Patricia Rozema's conception is more <i>Becoming Jane</i> than <i>Mansfield Park</i>. You'll notice that Fanny's direct appeals to the viewer continue in this proposal scene, during the final moments of which she is looking at the camera, rather than her lover Edmund Bertram (Jonny Lee Miller).</p>
<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Bm3QywZFBuA?start=963&end=1087" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=963" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=963</a> [scene ends at 18:07]</p>
<p><b>The novel:</b></p>
<blockquote><p>Scarcely had [Edmund] done regretting Mary Crawford, and observing to Fanny how impossible it was that he should ever meet with such another woman, before it began to strike him whether a very different kind of woman might not do just as well, or a great deal better: whether Fanny herself were not growing as dear, as important to him in all her smiles and all her ways, as Mary Crawford had ever been; and whether it might not be a possible, a hopeful undertaking to persuade her that her warm and sisterly regard for him would be foundation enough for wedded love.</p>
<p>I purposely abstain from dates on this occasion, that every one may be at liberty to fix their own, aware that the cure of unconquerable passions, and the transfer of unchanging attachments, must vary much as to time in different people. I only entreat everybody to believe that exactly at the time when it was quite natural that it should be so, and not a week earlier, Edmund did cease to care about Miss Crawford, and became as anxious to marry Fanny as Fanny herself could desire.</p></blockquote>
<p>Rozema uses the last paragraph—how could she not?—in which Austen's narrator cleverly reassures each of her disparate readers that Edmund is not being over-hasty. In the film it is Fanny who says "at the time when it was quite natural to be so," continuing the film's conceit of Fanny as the young Jane, writing the very story we've been witnessing. But, of course, this gives Fanny a wry, ironic view of her own happiness, an attitude that does not seem true to Fanny's character in the novel. </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IGzlDGUZ_ZGuCOtOoO8MWonMumHjIpffsrgOvFHDLS_sU0qumOh7A25kJli23iQmHvleFBkX_VpRZisCIoP64_VsdOZZa_0lki7VeopTB74smcVcrDNuUofE-s5v8mBqvMMnHckJnepNzjoqCU3xQPj7AJnPjgOKdKj7i8DqnkT3c3qg-F0FeHt0/s668/mansfield_park_thomson.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="480" height="668" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IGzlDGUZ_ZGuCOtOoO8MWonMumHjIpffsrgOvFHDLS_sU0qumOh7A25kJli23iQmHvleFBkX_VpRZisCIoP64_VsdOZZa_0lki7VeopTB74smcVcrDNuUofE-s5v8mBqvMMnHckJnepNzjoqCU3xQPj7AJnPjgOKdKj7i8DqnkT3c3qg-F0FeHt0/s16000/mansfield_park_thomson.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Sitting under trees with Fanny." Illustration by Hugh Thomson for <i>Mansfield Park</i> (Macmillan, 1897). Image source: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thomson-MP-ch48.JPG" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a></p>
<blockquote><p>. . .Even in the midst of his late infatuation, he had acknowledged Fanny’s mental superiority. What must be his sense of it now, therefore? She was of course only too good for him; but as nobody minds having what is too good for them, he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing, and it was not possible that encouragement from her should be long wanting. Timid, anxious, doubting as she was, it was still impossible that such tenderness as hers should not, at times, hold out the strongest hope of success, though it remained for a later period to tell him the whole delightful and astonishing truth. </p></blockquote>
<p>In Austen's novel the "delightful and astonishing truth" of her long-held feelings will be told by Fanny to Edmund, and not the other way around, as in Rozema's film.</p>
<blockquote><p>His happiness in knowing himself to have been so long the beloved of such a heart, must have been great enough to warrant any strength of language in which he could clothe it to her or to himself; it must have been a delightful happiness. But there was happiness elsewhere which no description can reach. Let no one presume to give the feelings of a young woman on receiving the assurance of that affection of which she has scarcely allowed herself to entertain a hope.</p>
<p>. . .With so much true merit and true love, and no want of fortune and friends, the happiness of the married cousins must appear as secure as earthly happiness can be. (Ch. XLVIII)<br /></p></blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;">There is so much wrong with the film's proposal scene, especially in comparison to Austen's novel, that I'm not sure where to begin. Edmund's speech to Fanny is filled with banalities; it's <i>she</i> who has loved <i>him</i> her whole life (since, at least, she was 10) and not the other way around—Edmund has only just allowed himself to discover how lovable she is; Fanny's dress seems too revealing for Regency day wear, and siren-red is probably the wrong color; when they kiss we don't need to see him try to slip her some tongue. . .sigh. I've enjoyed some of Rozema's other films, and this one is not without its moments. And I want to be clear that I think both Frances O'Connor and Jonny Lee Miller are good actors; the deficits of this film are not their fault. But in my view we're still awaiting a worthy adaptation of <i>Mansfield Park</i>.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><b>For more on the novel:</b> please see "Mansfield Park and slavery" parts 1 ("<b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/03/six-months-with-jane-austen-mansfield.html" target="_blank">Fanny Price and Dido Elizabeth Belle</a></b>"), 2 ("<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/03/six-months-with-jane-austen-mansfield_21.html" target="_blank"><b>Lord Mansfield, the Somerset case and the <i>Zong</i> massacre</b></a>"), and 3 ("<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/04/six-months-with-jane-austen-mansfield.html" target="_blank"><b>An estate built on the ruin and labour of others</b></a>").</p><p style="text-align: left;"><b>Next time:</b> <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-4-emma.html" target="_blank">Emma</a></b></i> </p><p style="text-align: left;"><b>Previous posts:</b> </p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li style="text-align: left;"><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-2.html" target="_blank">Pride and Prejudice</a></b></i></li><li style="text-align: left;"><i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-1.html" target="_blank">Sense and Sensibility</a></b></i></li></ul>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-1044815818068624902024-02-22T06:10:00.000-08:002024-02-24T15:32:22.211-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 2: Pride and Prejudice<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZv3CCpQP1ENPWkQPJulcjaoNo4SZZbMDN-pHlGZ1LUm9sZHXgKCloGtQfy92plgrea79unhWT6iPyOWhjEC6wgaKpnTwCG79oA84e5CNT9LO6Cd-hzj-3Yh1Puosg3oVNnfOmx-KHo8jKHvicFes7zp0hVlg3mxTEXK9BjEEDjukKkLid5I8R466/s1600/pride_prejudice_1995.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="560" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZv3CCpQP1ENPWkQPJulcjaoNo4SZZbMDN-pHlGZ1LUm9sZHXgKCloGtQfy92plgrea79unhWT6iPyOWhjEC6wgaKpnTwCG79oA84e5CNT9LO6Cd-hzj-3Yh1Puosg3oVNnfOmx-KHo8jKHvicFes7zp0hVlg3mxTEXK9BjEEDjukKkLid5I8R466/s1600/pride_prejudice_1995.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Jennifer Ehle (Elizabeth Bennet) and Colin Firth (Fitzwilliam Darcy) in <i>Pride and Prejudice</i> (1995).</p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">Pride and Prejudice</h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background:</b> Six months previously, Darcy had proposed to Elizabeth, despite his sense of "her inferiority — of its being a degradation — of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination." Not surprisingly, Elizabeth was insulted rather than flattered, and, having learned of Darcy's intervention to block the growing attachment between his friend Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth's sister Jane, as well as his supposed ill-treatment of Mr. Wickham, rejected him in the bluntest possible terms: "I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry." But later, news of Elizabeth's sister Lydia's elopement arrives. . .</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Pride and Prejudice</i> is unusual in that the heroine and the hero each has a separate moment of <i>éclaircissement</i> before the proposal scene. For Elizabeth it is brought about by Lydia's careless mention of Darcy's presence at her wedding ("'Mr. Darcy!' repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement"); this is the moment when Elizabeth's understanding of Darcy's role in bringing about Lydia's marriage to her seducer, and, perhaps, the reasons for his involvement, begin to dawn. And for Darcy it is when he learns from his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Elizabeth's refusal to promise that she will never become engaged to him.</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">On a fine day in early autumn, Darcy and Bingley pay a call on the Bennets. . .</p>
<p><b>The television adaptation:</b> screenplay by Andrew Davies, directed by Simon Langton (1995)</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Bm3QywZFBuA?start=706&end=952" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=706" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=706</a> [scene ends at 15:52]</p>
<p><b>The novel:</b></p>
<blockquote><p>. . .Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same.</p>
<p>They walked towards the Lucases', because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was high, she immediately said,—</p>
<p>"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express." </p>
<p>"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted." </p>
<p>"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them."</p>
<p>"If you <i>will</i> thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your <i>family</i> owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of <i>you</i>."</p>
<p>Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. <i>My</i> affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."</p></blockquote>
<p>Up to the point of Darcy's declaration and proposal ("My affections and wishes are unchanged"), Davies' script follows the novel closely (although in the adaptation Elizabeth, Kitty and Darcy trail Bingley and Jane, rather than walking ahead of them—a change that works better for the screen). But once again, at a crucial moment Austen shifts to third-person narration and indirect speech:</p>
<blockquote><p>Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.</p></blockquote>
<p>As reflected in the television adaptation, once Elizabeth's acceptance is expressed there is further <i>éclaircissement</i>:</p>
<blockquote><p>They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who <i>did</i> call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which <i>she</i> had refused to give. But, unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.</p></blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdN_87UnPtWviV0iviHVKMjlg4dDFmrvmq-eUoch8Xm6ewfPbI94ttLBGiEy-55mJu6K9ttAZuO6bnfISCX6cY8gFp_h1-MC0pewfUf2Fo39adTdun99S_6hp6uVFUOrDpbfIBT1ZX0kRuiG67D78yeWVBNzdNgLFGa24dL4xTYQIst9qlrwtq9GS/s537/pride_prejudice_thomson_500.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdN_87UnPtWviV0iviHVKMjlg4dDFmrvmq-eUoch8Xm6ewfPbI94ttLBGiEy-55mJu6K9ttAZuO6bnfISCX6cY8gFp_h1-MC0pewfUf2Fo39adTdun99S_6hp6uVFUOrDpbfIBT1ZX0kRuiG67D78yeWVBNzdNgLFGa24dL4xTYQIst9qlrwtq9GS/s16000/pride_prejudice_thomson_500.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"The efforts of his aunt." Illustration by Hugh Thomson for <i>Pride and Prejudice</i> (George Allen, 1894). Picture source: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1342/pg1342-images.html#page_448" target="_blank">Project Gutenberg</a></p>
<blockquote><p>"It taught me to hope," said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly."</p>
<p>Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know enough of my <i>frankness</i> to believe me capable of <i>that</i>. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."</p>
<p>"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."</p>
<p>"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility."</p>
<p>"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: 'Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."</p>
<p>"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."</p>
<p>"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me."</p>
<p>"Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."</p>
<p>". . .I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was <i>right</i>, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. . .Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."</p>
<p>. . .She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to each to be dwelt on farther.</p></blockquote>
<p>One reason that this is the most beloved of all Jane Austen adaptations is its screenwriter's trust in Austen's novel. While Davies does insert some scenes of his own invention—most notoriously, the wet-shirt encounter between Darcy and Elizabeth—ultimately it's the faithfulness to the book (which requires the 5-hour running time), along with the perfect casting and the attention to period detail, which sets this adaptation above all others.</p>
<p><b>For more on the novel:</b> please see "<b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/03/six-months-with-jane-austen-pride-and.html" target="_blank"><i>Pride and Prejudice</i> and the marriage market</a></b>"</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-3.html" target="_blank">Mansfield Park</a></b></i></p><p><b>Last time:</b><i> <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-1.html" target="_blank">Sense and Sensibility</a></b> <br /></i></p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-33549369584650977692024-02-20T06:16:00.000-08:002024-02-24T05:26:23.261-08:00Jane Austen proposal scenes, part 1: Sense and Sensibility<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY9pZaZQJ_1Xxma5DaNwT8CHrPmRG2SvqH8oWpXvPWwdoGSH7MB7SJTNHgQY8JcKAYOgey2bsIHYBhnsyXiAE-j3e4mSe7pGQcqlfjYcCjwRbDiamx-5MkThR_kj9uB2nmC08weZr9NnYfxq1pcBnhOuEzMwIJ76PafmMNBL5JbqYck3mavUe7cMq/s560/sense_sensibility_1995.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="560" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY9pZaZQJ_1Xxma5DaNwT8CHrPmRG2SvqH8oWpXvPWwdoGSH7MB7SJTNHgQY8JcKAYOgey2bsIHYBhnsyXiAE-j3e4mSe7pGQcqlfjYcCjwRbDiamx-5MkThR_kj9uB2nmC08weZr9NnYfxq1pcBnhOuEzMwIJ76PafmMNBL5JbqYck3mavUe7cMq/s16000/sense_sensibility_1995.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Emma Thompson (Elinor Dashwood), Kate Winslet (Marianne Dashwood), and Gemma Jones (Mrs. Dashwood) in <i>Sense and Sensibility</i> (1995)<br /></p>
<p>On Valentine's Eve, my local chapter of the Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA) gathered to watch proposal scenes from television and film adaptations of Jane Austen's novels. The next night I decided to read the proposal scenes from Austen's canonical novels to my partner. It was, so to speak, an eye-opening experience.</p>
<p>What became clear from my readings was how reticent Austen often is about her heroes' actual proposals and her heroines' acceptances. She follows their love stories in detail, relating conversations and letters verbatim for 300 or 400 pages. Then she often passes over the moment of the actual proposal quickly, or narrates it in the third person using indirect speech.<br /></p>
<p>Over six posts I will offer clips of proposal scenes from Austen film and television adaptations, juxtaposed with their source texts in
Austen's novels. Each proposal scene has three stages: <i>éclaircissement</i>, when the misunderstandings keeping the couple apart are at last resolved; the declaration, when the hero speaks of his love for the heroine, and proposes; and the acceptance, when the heroine finally acknowledges her love for the hero to herself, and to him.</p>
<p>In the film and television adaptations the declaration and acceptance are necessarily often elaborated. In Austen, <i>éclaircissement</i> is all, and everything that follows a matter of course. As is definitely the case in this first scene.</p><p>A word of warning: these posts discussing the proposal scenes will necessarily involve spoilers. <br /></p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">Sense and Sensibility<br /></h4>
<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><b>Background to the proposal scene:</b> Elinor Dashwood had previously formed an attachment to Edward Ferrars, but then received the unwelcome knowledge that he has been engaged to another woman, Lucy Steele, for more than four years. Elinor, though secretly still harboring feelings for Edward, has put aside all thoughts of him as a marriage partner. One day in spring the news arrives that Mr. Ferrars has married, and a few days later Edward rides up the lane to Barton Cottage on an unexpected visit. . .</p>
<p><b>The film adaptation:</b> screenplay by Emma Thompson, directed by Ang Lee (1995)</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Bm3QywZFBuA?start=395&end=689" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=395" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bm3QywZFBuA?t=395</a> [scene ends at 11:29]</p>
<p><b>The novel:</b></p>
<blockquote><p>They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before them.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTceNzWt0P4trBnYGYXqd8ARPsGt3lXsA-M6oRkVXibpb7w1cRw0R6NFFFBsN-A-oZsapOGxLF4r7j_UHYKcOJKb7RUnJYIRfiEqtibHiOhxpYQ_d5zDhU4gGEX_kVy9hIN2sXYw_DWnXF7TSPl2M1yBukRTFB12bffdj-UtByvTamHYBrYX91CGP/s715/sense_sensibility_thomson.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="500" height="686" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTceNzWt0P4trBnYGYXqd8ARPsGt3lXsA-M6oRkVXibpb7w1cRw0R6NFFFBsN-A-oZsapOGxLF4r7j_UHYKcOJKb7RUnJYIRfiEqtibHiOhxpYQ_d5zDhU4gGEX_kVy9hIN2sXYw_DWnXF7TSPl2M1yBukRTFB12bffdj-UtByvTamHYBrYX91CGP/s16000/sense_sensibility_thomson.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"It <i>was</i> Edward." Illustration by Hugh Thomson for <i>Sense and Sensibility</i> (MacMillan, 1896). Image source: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/21839/pg21839-images.html#CHAPTER_XLVIII" target="_blank">Project Gutenberg</a></p>
<p>His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, met him with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and wished him joy.</p>
<p>He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor’s lips had moved with her mother’s, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather.</p>
<p>Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a strict silence.</p>
<p>When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative.</p>
<p>Another pause.</p>
<p>Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,</p>
<p>"Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?" [the home of Lucy Steele's family]</p>
<p>"At Longstaple!" he replied, with an air of surprise. "No, my mother is in town."</p>
<p>"I meant," said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, "to enquire for Mrs. <i>Edward</i> Ferrars."</p>
<p>She dared not look up;—but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,—</p>
<p>"Perhaps you mean—my brother—you mean Mrs.—Mrs. <i>Robert</i> Ferrars."</p>
<p>"Mrs. Robert Ferrars!" was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement; and though Elinor could not speak, even <i>her</i> eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice,—</p>
<p>"Perhaps you do not know: you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to—to the youngest—to Miss Lucy Steele."</p>
<p>His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was.</p>
<p>"Yes," said he, "they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish." [A seaside resort in Devonshire where they have gone for their honeymoon.]<br /></p></blockquote>
<p>So far, the differences are minor. Thompson reassigns and alters some of the dialogue and changes some of the action (Edward walks to the fireplace and handles a sheep figurine (!) on the mantelpiece rather than ruining a pair of scissors and its sheath; I would also say that in revealing his brother's marriage he speaks haltingly rather than hurriedly), but up to this point in the scene the screenplay is faithful to the novel.</p><p>But then Thompson must necessarily depart from Austen's depiction of the proposal scene, which emphasizes Edward's awkwardness and discomfort, rather than his passion, and which is narrated rather than incorporating dialogue:</p>
<blockquote><p>Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw—or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village—leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden;—a perplexity which they had no means of lessening but by their own conjectures.</p>
<p>Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all;—for after experiencing the blessings of <i>one</i> imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother’s consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of <i>that</i>, than the immediate contraction of another.</p>
<p>His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him;—and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air.</p>
<p>How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told. This only need be said;—that when they all sat down to table at four o’clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his lady, engaged her mother’s consent, and was not only in the rapturous profession of the lover, but, in the reality of reason and truth, one of the happiest of men. (Chs. XLVIII–XLIX)</p></blockquote>
<p>Thompson approximates this third-person narration very cleverly by having the actual proposal reported by Margaret from the treehouse (an invention of Thompson's, of course) to Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne below. Nothing, of course, can be heard of Edward's proposal, but (as in Austen) "in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told," or shown. In the film, after revealing that it is his brother Robert who has married Lucy Steele, Edward's declaration (from 10:10 to 11:00 in the video clip above) is a combination of Emma Thompson's imagination and snatches of the conversations—further <i>éclaircissement</i>—between Elinor and Edward that occur in the days after his proposal and her acceptance.</p>
<p>There is another key difference between this film and the novel: Edward Ferrars is 24, but Hugh Grant was 34 at the time of filming; Elinor Dashwood is 19 (perhaps 20 at the end of the novel), while Emma Thompson was 36. As I wrote in "<b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/06/six-months-with-jane-austen-favorite.html" target="_blank">Six months with Jane Austen: Favorite adaptations and final thoughts</a></b>," "Having the characters appear older than they are intended to be changes our perceptions of them. In particular, it gives Edward's flirtation with Lucy Steele (Imogen Stubbs) a different character, and it makes Elinor's 'strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment' less remarkable." This version is beautifully shot by Ang Lee, has a witty script by Thompson, and is well-performed by a cast of wonderful actors. But there is no way not to notice that in terms of their ages Thompson is closer to Anne Elliot (from <i>Persuasion</i>) than Elinor, and Grant to Mr. Knightley (from <i>Mansfield Park</i>) or Col. Brandon than Edward.</p>
<p><b>For more on the novel:</b> please see "<b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/01/six-months-with-jane-austen-sense-and.html" target="_blank"><i>Sense and Sensibility</i>, inheritance, and money</a></b>"</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/02/jane-austen-proposal-scenes-part-2.html" target="_blank">Pride and Prejudice</a></b></i></p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-2723050687738016362024-02-11T06:45:00.000-08:002024-02-18T13:59:22.456-08:00The Fraud<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXuuKMDxprvO5ZA6woU4V2g-seUR4dY3bB0E68eTy8EeJt9655chyYMWWDitqmcQ1T0IsK8GksZes2M-D-44J5-m5Bl1_w0BchrfZtJ4klUort1fhJd3KIIuRKLBBo8JddHJpxGfCw9TfYL5pTqIbGwWwq82M5-a1F6sr3QvMe1NkoYwauQ_oEVJN/s1600/fraud_smith_480.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="480" height="730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXuuKMDxprvO5ZA6woU4V2g-seUR4dY3bB0E68eTy8EeJt9655chyYMWWDitqmcQ1T0IsK8GksZes2M-D-44J5-m5Bl1_w0BchrfZtJ4klUort1fhJd3KIIuRKLBBo8JddHJpxGfCw9TfYL5pTqIbGwWwq82M5-a1F6sr3QvMe1NkoYwauQ_oEVJN/s1600/fraud_smith_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/568108/the-fraud-by-zadie-smith/" target="_blank">Penguin Random House</a></p>
<blockquote><p>Not all historical fiction cosplays its era, and an exploration of the past need not be a slavish imitation of it.</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">—Zadie Smith, "<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2023/07/10/on-killing-charles-dickens" target="_blank">On Killing Charles Dickens</a>," <i>The New Yorker</i>, 10 & 17 July, 2023</p></blockquote>
<p>The danger in writing a historical novel entitled <i>The Fraud</i> is that parallels to present-day political pageants are all too obvious. Fortunately Zadie Smith doesn't belabor the connections, although of course they are unavoidable. Instead, she explores the idea of fraudulence as it relates to multiple characters, on stages both public and private. If you're wondering which character the title refers to, the answer is pretty much all of them.</p>
<p>The inspiration for the novel seems to have been twofold: first, in 2012 Smith came across the case of the Tichborne Claimant, a spectacle that consumed the British public for almost a decade between 1866 and 1874. Roger Tichborne, the 25-year-old heir to the vast Doughty-Tichborne estate, was believed drowned in a shipwreck off South America in 1854, although his body was never found. His mother, Lady Henriette Tichborne, consulted a clairvoyant, who—in the first of many instances of deception in this story—told her that her son was still alive. Lady Tichborne then advertised in newspapers in Britain, and later in Australia, offering a reward for news of her son.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWMtlf0rAEOmhyphenhyphenHAbN7z2E2AvWet5BEJc6z19PA6SBNvExGWhYF6HYU7P6zEy9rXpQ7HeffQQqFcQKCAFCajUPk5pQ0TOJdEux18ctpyS_NL_LUMYxKNlXqjDAE5ryh0mdXi6ahJQPMRKFQ9JXOF63xE5DM4NUKvd-FqnlVZXtP5RnWsJI8P4WnuX/s600/a4755023h_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWMtlf0rAEOmhyphenhyphenHAbN7z2E2AvWet5BEJc6z19PA6SBNvExGWhYF6HYU7P6zEy9rXpQ7HeffQQqFcQKCAFCajUPk5pQ0TOJdEux18ctpyS_NL_LUMYxKNlXqjDAE5ryh0mdXi6ahJQPMRKFQ9JXOF63xE5DM4NUKvd-FqnlVZXtP5RnWsJI8P4WnuX/s16000/a4755023h_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">The Dowager Lady Tichborne and Roger Charles Tichborne. Photo credit: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Company. Image source: <a href="https://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/collection-items/roger-tichborne-great-tichborne-trial-ca-1874-london-stereoscopic-photographic" target="_blank">State Library, New South Wales</a></p>
<p>In 1866 an Australian man arrived in England claiming to be Roger Tichborne. Tichborne had been raised in Paris and spoke French fluently; the Claimant could not speak a word. Tichborne had "distinctive tattoos," while the Claimant had none. Tichborne was slender and had a thin face and long nose; the Claimant was corpulent, with a round face and a shorter nose. Most probably the Claimant was really Arthur Orton, a butcher's son from Wapping, a working-class neighborhood about half a mile east of the Tower of London on the north bank of the Thames. Orton had gone to sea, settled in Australia, and there had adopted his father's profession (and gone bankrupt).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphNgeiu_ZcjrGzzW16ULiJa6lfFmxB7N0QoqEdNzpo5cinFFxlbMUG0q17k3-H6OtMeCdtRM_yos-HPttWiTAQQDYMFkT3D6ASrnuBTnTW__v8Z_QbqNdCVJ0F8GCQ-nJc7cFAUpNXU2XPhkQ3CW_xKkE_wamkQ997Lqf8jN3KrKuAg39A2WUpdo2/s803/i11622_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="803" data-original-width="480" height="803" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphNgeiu_ZcjrGzzW16ULiJa6lfFmxB7N0QoqEdNzpo5cinFFxlbMUG0q17k3-H6OtMeCdtRM_yos-HPttWiTAQQDYMFkT3D6ASrnuBTnTW__v8Z_QbqNdCVJ0F8GCQ-nJc7cFAUpNXU2XPhkQ3CW_xKkE_wamkQ997Lqf8jN3KrKuAg39A2WUpdo2/s16000/i11622_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">The Tichborne Claimant, c. 1872. Photo credit: Maull & Co. Image source: <a href="https://portrait.gov.au/portraits/2001.23/the-tichborne-claimant-arthur-orton" target="_blank">National Portrait Gallery, Australia</a></p>
<p>Despite the pronounced differences between the Claimant and the man he pretended to be, he won the support of Lady Tichborne as well as many members of the public. The interesting question, then and now, is why so many people would accept such an obviously false story. The mother's refusal to accept her son's death, and her embrace of a surrogate as a means of coping with her grief, perhaps require no explanation. But why would the Claimant get so much public support for his incredible story? In her <i>New Yorker</i> essay Smith writes,</p>
<blockquote><p>. . .the Claimant’s star witness and stoutest defender turned out to be a Jamaican ex-slave called Andrew Bogle, who had worked for the Tichbornes and insisted that he recognized Sir Roger. Now, one might imagine that the court testimony of a poor black man in 1873 would be met with widespread skepticism, but the British Public—like its cousin, the American People—is full of surprises, and having seen so many working-class defendants mistreated by bourgeois juries, Etonian lawyers, and aristocratic judges, the people were more than ready to support a poor man’s claim to be a rich one. Huge crowds filled the courtroom, eager to see one of their own win, for once. . .Bogle and his butcher became national heroes.</p></blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoftUNVhF0dD5Hqf9l63g4fKQ-fKAdx8dxUM6LU8m1IMcFmgpCQbgxIGLpd837LwHR13k9oaEfgXHKk873tzNacH2RTWhLxlQ1kqIN2veMaqLyGy1BmxkzoTKEBjWv246UN1N0_BLcems1MUGIxq4JCbDHDQEZMsDKTx7wTVf10dUijyA3JmfYz7G7/s1600/Andrew-Bogle_480.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="480" height="784" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoftUNVhF0dD5Hqf9l63g4fKQ-fKAdx8dxUM6LU8m1IMcFmgpCQbgxIGLpd837LwHR13k9oaEfgXHKk873tzNacH2RTWhLxlQ1kqIN2veMaqLyGy1BmxkzoTKEBjWv246UN1N0_BLcems1MUGIxq4JCbDHDQEZMsDKTx7wTVf10dUijyA3JmfYz7G7/s1600/Andrew-Bogle_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Andrew Bogle, c. 1873. Photo credit: Maull & Co. Image source: National Portrait Gallery, London <a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw123031/Andrew-Bogle?" target="_blank">NPG Ax28455</a>
</p><p>The second inspiration for the novel was Smith's discovery of the forgotten Victorian writer William Harrison Ainsworth and his longtime housekeeper, a woman by the name of Eliza Touchet (pronounced either "touché" or "touch it"). Eliza Touchet and Andrew Bogle, a housekeeper and an ex-slave, became the central characters of <i>The Fraud</i>, and it is largely Eliza's perspective and thoughts that are shared with the reader.</p>
<p><b>William Harrison Ainsworth and <i>Jack Sheppard</i></b></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxL67o-F_sNsusZDgsXrBfZRXaRM9RZnb0PX0mZpmYUTsx1cMojtR-gpRNV4gRjbQFZq6jyt4xK3qISV6jBK1LGi8FWV-BXz67ZOIdugJ3mGHftn2YBYzNkdAgjkjutYGQoqNoe976MrGooK7U15dUyio-oF86UemM45iFrh1FtVlhoNtVMcltJUAG/s622/William-Harrison-Ainsworth_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="480" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxL67o-F_sNsusZDgsXrBfZRXaRM9RZnb0PX0mZpmYUTsx1cMojtR-gpRNV4gRjbQFZq6jyt4xK3qISV6jBK1LGi8FWV-BXz67ZOIdugJ3mGHftn2YBYzNkdAgjkjutYGQoqNoe976MrGooK7U15dUyio-oF86UemM45iFrh1FtVlhoNtVMcltJUAG/s16000/William-Harrison-Ainsworth_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">William Harrison Ainsworth by Daniel Maclise, c. 1834. Image source: National Portrait Gallery, London <a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw00053/William-Harrison-Ainsworth?" target="_blank">NPG 3655</a></p>
<p>Ainsworth was a Victorian novelist whose books are largely forgotten today. (Although if you've heard of "Dick Turpin's Ride," it's a fictional incident from Ainsworth's 1834 best-seller <i>Rookwood</i>; the real highwayman Dick Turpin never rode overnight from London to York to establish an alibi.) In <i>The Fraud</i> Ainsworth is portrayed as living in Willesden—described in his novel <i>Jack Sheppard</i> as "the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis," and Smith's longtime London residence—in a domestic and sexual <i>ménage</i> with his second wife and Eliza. (Smith also imagines that Eliza and Ainsworth's first wife were lovers, a situation that, as <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/search/label/books%20-%20Anne%20Lister" target="_blank">Anne Lister's diaries</a></b> suggest, must have been more common than we generally assume among women in Victorian households.) I don't know whether Ainsworth's longtime affair with Eliza is based on any historical evidence Smith uncovered in her research for the novel, but it does resemble the situation of another Victorian novelist: Charles Dickens.</p>
<p>Dickens lived for many years with his wife Catherine and another woman who took on most of the domestic responsibilities: his wife's sister Georgina. As I wrote in <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2020/10/six-victorian-marriages-part-4.html" target="_blank">Six Victorian marriages, part 4</a></b>, "There was speculation, both at the time and since, that Georgina had replaced Catherine in the marital bed as well as in the roles of mother and mistress of the house." Perhaps Smith borrowed and altered some details from Dickens' life when imagining Ainsworth's.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinpE-O8W9fgaD13FFxm7uplIr-pZeqfENMfedruGEPmpDrGmV5s8aS4CEaWzdkn_5pYMKFdDraIoMcpzY0BVNvg_TvhHXRG9w-bzlSj-_ZJ-f46GTm1GJJbAcT_3AohkkwCv9XoNq0ZPKw6RX9E8d1J-QJv9FzvI9cYB-hmbU3L06llV1o_AApuo59/s600/charles_dickens_cdmuseum_3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="451" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinpE-O8W9fgaD13FFxm7uplIr-pZeqfENMfedruGEPmpDrGmV5s8aS4CEaWzdkn_5pYMKFdDraIoMcpzY0BVNvg_TvhHXRG9w-bzlSj-_ZJ-f46GTm1GJJbAcT_3AohkkwCv9XoNq0ZPKw6RX9E8d1J-QJv9FzvI9cYB-hmbU3L06llV1o_AApuo59/s16000/charles_dickens_cdmuseum_3.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Portrait of Charles Dickens by Samuel Laurence, 1837. Image source: <a href="http://www.collections.dickensmuseum.com/object-dh719--1996-4" target="_blank">Charles Dickens Museum</a></p>
<p>In "On Killing Charles Dickens," Smith talks about her reluctance to write a historical novel under Dickens' "long shadow":</p>
<blockquote><p>My pride rested now on one principle: no Dickens. This meant—at the very least—no orphans, no lengthy Dickensian descriptions, and <i>absolutely no</i> mean women called Mrs. Spitely or cowards called Mr. Fearfaint, or what have you. . .But one of the lessons of writing fiction is that truth is stranger than it. The fact that a real person I was writing about was called Eliza Touchet—and that this same woman was beginning to bloom in my mind, until she dwarfed all the other characters—meant that I now had to face the prospect of my novel strongly featuring a woman whose name even Dickens would have considered
a bit too on the nose. Touché, Mrs. Touchet!</p></blockquote>
<p>Another problem: when writing about the literary world of Victorian England, Dickens is inescapable.</p><blockquote>
<p>. . .it became clear to me that in order to tell the whole of my true story there was really no way to entirely avoid Mr. Charles Dickens making an actual appearance in my actual pages. For several years, he was a regular dinner guest of Ainsworth’s. He was involved in a debate about the future of Jamaica. (He was on the wrong side of the debate.) Most mind-bogglingly, Doughty Street—where Dickens once lived—is in that corner of South East Bloomsbury which belongs to the Doughty-Tichborne estate. Which meant that Dickens’s former home was a piece of what my Claimant was trying to claim. Dickens was everywhere, like weather. <br /></p></blockquote>Ainsworth and Dickens were good friends, at least for a time. At the start of their careers Ainsworth, seven years older than Dickens, was the more popular and successful writer. As Sheldon Goldfarb reports in his <i>Oxford Dictionary of National Biography</i> article on Ainsworth, he was responsible for "introducing the younger novelist to his future biographer ([John] Forster), his first illustrator (George Cruikshank), and his first publisher (John Macrone)." <p>One of Ainsworth's most successful titles was a novel about the 18th-century thief Jack Sheppard, who escaped four times from Newgate Prison over the course of a single year. It was published as a monthly serial in <i>Bentley's Miscellany</i> beginning in January 1839, just as the final installments of Dickens' <i>Oliver Twist</i> were appearing in the same journal.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehNdZvIvPv3zcC2m2MkrZTQkdBqTWBMlKmaXCLJHlQF8CVl9gG4dLHALPKKldH0_QAByTjYGL6lBAYHMnBMo0Tb79jyraRRSfoE_CVlcNsWkKJedlpOM3Pk_956SAfflfywS8o_L6Lp3oIkpjcvRBrBd_1bSeDFRbx9PUcgAhWmG6DrojEqsqeXrI/s649/ainsworth_jack_sheppard_edgeworth_bess_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehNdZvIvPv3zcC2m2MkrZTQkdBqTWBMlKmaXCLJHlQF8CVl9gG4dLHALPKKldH0_QAByTjYGL6lBAYHMnBMo0Tb79jyraRRSfoE_CVlcNsWkKJedlpOM3Pk_956SAfflfywS8o_L6Lp3oIkpjcvRBrBd_1bSeDFRbx9PUcgAhWmG6DrojEqsqeXrI/s16000/ainsworth_jack_sheppard_edgeworth_bess_480.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Jack Sheppard in company with Edgeworth Bess, escaping from Clerkenwell Prison." Illustration by George Cruikshank for William Harrison Ainsworth, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> (Richard Bentley, 1839), v. 2, following p. 164. Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uiuo.ark:/13960/t0zp4qm4k&seq=185">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<p><i>Jack Sheppard</i> became so popular that nine different stage adaptations had appeared in London by the end of the year, including a ballad opera composed by G. Herbert Rodwell to lyrics by Ainsworth and others, with a book by John Baldwin Buckstone. The opera included a song that became a popular hit: "Nix My Dolly, Pals, Fake Away," whose lyrics, taken from a song in Ainsworth's <i>Rookwood</i>, were filled with criminal slang:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/9yn9z-pb12M?si=hRB5AUr9zZIv13qV" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/9yn9z-pb12M" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/9yn9z-pb12M</a></p>
<p>Performed by Simon Butteriss, Charli Baptie, Peter Benedict, Daniel Huttlestone, Emily Vine, and Valerie Langfield, accompanied by Stephen Higgins, piano, from Retrospective Opera RO010.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpShUfdTTVsIVUjeVsoXyKRQD4EhdUNMeDxc4mt3wWI9NkXjK9WEnDwd3113_EdRED8cxsvC2ZeNBZc80AX9YRddxAP4lGdTg92oN4zt55vsHPMSLpuLintQzqfYiwNdEyn23-TYFdTlXQFUGbiW47Rd_vsoLloNFSwCeG0FmB7fEU9J-iRG_glaS/s1600/74893545.30_crop.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1744" data-original-width="644" height="1300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpShUfdTTVsIVUjeVsoXyKRQD4EhdUNMeDxc4mt3wWI9NkXjK9WEnDwd3113_EdRED8cxsvC2ZeNBZc80AX9YRddxAP4lGdTg92oN4zt55vsHPMSLpuLintQzqfYiwNdEyn23-TYFdTlXQFUGbiW47Rd_vsoLloNFSwCeG0FmB7fEU9J-iRG_glaS/s1600/74893545.30_crop.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Broadsheet of "Nix my dolly, pals, fake away," by William Harrison Ainsworth. For a translation of the slang, see <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uiuo.ark:/13960/t4gm8wk4s&seq=362&view=2up" target="_blank"><i>Rookwood</i> at HathiTrust.org</a>. The line "No knuckler'ss deftly could fake a'ely" is garbled; the original is "No knuckler so deftly could fake a cly." A knuckler is a pickpocket, and to fake a cly is to rob a mark. Image source: <a href="https://digital.nls.uk/english-ballads/archive/74893543" target="_blank">National Library of Scotland</a></p>
<p>As depicted in <i>The Fraud</i>, despite his early success—<i>Jack Sheppard</i> is said to have outsold <i>Oliver Twist</i>—Ainsworth's popularity began a long decline from the 1840s onward, while Dickens became the most famous writer in the world. In the ODNB entry on Ainsworth, Goldfarb quotes John Sutherland's <i>Victorian novelists and publishers</i> (1976): "Many would have backed Ainsworth's talent against Dickens's in 1840. In the 1860s Dickens was earning £10,000 a novel, Ainsworth a hundredth of that sum; Dickens was buying Gadshill, Ainsworth was forced to sell his property piecemeal." Ainsworth died in 1882, never having recovered his popularity. The historical novelist sank into an obscurity lasting 140 years, until his appearance as character in Smith's historical novel.</p>
<p><i>The Fraud</i> is almost compulsively readable. Its short chapters of, at most, a few pages—very un-Victorian—jump back and forth in time over the nineteenth century, and take place in both England and Jamaica. As expected and hoped-for from Zadie Smith, the novel is very much alive to the class, racial, and sexual dynamics of that time, and ours.</p>
<p><b>Coda: Anthony Trollope's <i>Is He Popenjoy?</i></b></p>
<p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6mS0uHs0EJrlZ7iQuTkOHbpo5SqJBlL3HW27yjkBWnvcCHon2psW0OLbYufSDvTZh_jOCzWrx8m90RbHAdj8iBUMYNztiYxI19NpXfhI8xmwMz5IRjhLVfG8pMNKox7T77-vllq-7NKAjofaHnV-L3RQ3HpNYbNaY7mDGpT3UCLkm225sIxCOW2s/s789/trollope_popenjoy_all_the_year_round_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="480" height="789" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6mS0uHs0EJrlZ7iQuTkOHbpo5SqJBlL3HW27yjkBWnvcCHon2psW0OLbYufSDvTZh_jOCzWrx8m90RbHAdj8iBUMYNztiYxI19NpXfhI8xmwMz5IRjhLVfG8pMNKox7T77-vllq-7NKAjofaHnV-L3RQ3HpNYbNaY7mDGpT3UCLkm225sIxCOW2s/s16000/trollope_popenjoy_all_the_year_round_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></i></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">First installment of Anthony Trollope's <i>Is He Popenjoy?</i> in <i>All the Year Round</i>, New Series v. 19, 13 October 1877, Charles Dickens, Jr., Editor. Image source: <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.319510007285642&seq=227&view=1up" target="_blank">HathiTrust.org</a></p>
<p><i>The Fraud</i> is not the first novelistic response to the Tichborne case. A few years after the Claimant's cases were tried, Anthony Trollope published <i>Is He Popenjoy?</i> (1877–78), his 35th novel, in which legal questions are raised about the legitimacy of the heir to the aristocratic title of Lord Popenjoy. (While the familiar meaning of "popinjay" is a vain, conceited, and pretentious person, the less-well-known meaning of a target for archery or shooting seems to be the sense that pertains.) The novel was actually written in 1874–75—the Claimant's final trial concluded in 1874—but was held back from publication for three years.</p>
<p>The Marquis of Brotherton returns to England with a previously unannounced Italian wife and a "swarthy" infant son. Questions are immediately raised about the validity of the marriage and the legitimacy of the son. Trollope, in his usual brilliant way, ratchets up the dramatic tension with familial rivalries, power plays, and misalliances. The Marquis' younger brother, Lord George Germain—reluctant to interfere, but trapped by circumstances—is spurred on by his wife's father to lead the inquiry into the circumstances of the marriage and birth. Meanwhile the staid, dull, and conventional Lord George must also contend with his restive, pleasure-loving young wife Mary (shades of <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2011/09/guide-to-novels-of-anthony-trollope_25.html" target="_blank">Plantagenet Palliser and Lady Glencora</a></b>). His sense of righteousness is undermined, however, by his own ongoing emotional affair with the first woman he proposed to, now married to another man.</p>
<p><i>Is He Popenjoy?</i> is notorious for Trollope's treatment of the women's suffrage movement, which is embodied by Lady Selina Protest (perhaps a swipe at Emmeline Pankhurst), Dr. Olivia Q. Fleabody (Elizabeth Peabody?) and the Baroness Banmann. And suffragist meetings are held at hall referred to as the "Disabilities":</p>
<blockquote><p>The real and full name of the college, as some ladies delighted to call it, was, though somewhat lengthy, placarded in big letters on a long black board on the front of the building, and was as follows, "Rights of Women Institute; Established for the Relief of the Disabilities of Females." By friendly tongues to friendly ears "The College" or "the Institute" was the pleasant name used; but the irreverent public was apt to speak of the building generally as the "Female Disabilities." And the title was made even shorter. Omnibuses were desired to stop at the "Disabilities;" and it had become notorious that it was just a mile from King's Cross to the "Disabilities." There had been serious thoughts among those who were dominant in the Institute of taking down the big board and dropping the word. But then a change of a name implies such a confession of failure! It had on the whole been thought better to maintain the courage of the opinion which had first made the mistake. (<i>Is He Popenjoy?</i>, Ch. XVII)</p></blockquote>
<p>The Institute is played for comedy (although her inadvertent involvement causes Mary some distress), and is portrayed as a scene of fierce rivalries among the strong-willed leaders. We're a fair distance from the Tichborne Claimant, although of course there are parallels with the central plot about an heir's legitimacy. I'm currently halfway through <i>Is He Popenjoy?</i>, and while I wouldn't consider it one of the best of his novels, even those Trollope novels that aren't among the first rank offer many rewards—despite his, or at least his characters', Victorian prejudices (anti-feminism was and is by no means limited to men). </p><p>Before her marriage Mary's father delivers a homily about proper wifely behavior:</p>
<blockquote><p>A wife should provide that a man's dinner was such as he liked to eat, his bed such as he liked to lie on, his clothes arranged as he liked to wear them, and the household hours fixed to suit his convenience. She should learn and indulge his habits, should suit herself to him in external things of life, and could thus win from him a liking and a reverence which would wear better than the feeling generally called love, and would at last give the woman her proper influence. The Dean had meant to teach his child how she was to rule her husband, but of course had been too wise to speak of dominion. Mary, declaring to herself that the feeling generally called love should exist as well as the liking and the reverence, had laboured hard to win it all from her husband in accordance with her father's teaching; but it had seemed to her that her labour was wasted. (<i>Is He Popenjoy?</i>, Ch. XXVIII)</p></blockquote>
<p>This passage may raise a smile, or a grimace, today. However, the power balance in this relationship actually favors Mary. The couple are living on her money—Lord George is a second son, with an allowance barely large enough to supply his own wants—and their marriage is governed by a contract which gives her ownership of a London townhome separate from her husband's living arrangements in Brotherton. Trollope excels at setting up conflicts and misunderstandings between two characters, each of whom is sympathetic but neither of whom is without flaw. We are rarely allowed to make simple judgments. </p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-36699424856019705242024-01-20T17:53:00.000-08:002024-02-04T09:24:09.586-08:00"A waking dream": Carl Theodor Dreyer's Vampyr<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1u4WrVbIiwG-AIx9Nv-DdMViFWhngQoXLCKNaf-8bR6tgGE26hBB9kKql7kqmVsPozePYG_N51g2Cvt7eKiifQr7Pv7wD5yqttb1u2bpiZ7-COq8c8w4sIFurgeXIxWPUcO9rLUmn3Je8eg975ruIDQ6rykNVyvdUkhKfV8IPkK7yDsSfGJL5zvaN/s723/fuseli_nightmare_goetheshaus_2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="600" height="578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1u4WrVbIiwG-AIx9Nv-DdMViFWhngQoXLCKNaf-8bR6tgGE26hBB9kKql7kqmVsPozePYG_N51g2Cvt7eKiifQr7Pv7wD5yqttb1u2bpiZ7-COq8c8w4sIFurgeXIxWPUcO9rLUmn3Je8eg975ruIDQ6rykNVyvdUkhKfV8IPkK7yDsSfGJL5zvaN/s16000/fuseli_nightmare_goetheshaus_2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;"><i>The Nightmare</i> by Henry Fuseli, 1790. Image source: <a href="https://hessen.museum-digital.de/object/5298?navlang=en" target="_blank">Freies Deutsches Hochstift / Frankfurter Goethe-Museum</a></p>
<p style="font-size: 90%;"><b><i>Vampyr</i></b> (1932), starring Julian West (Allan Gray), Rena Mandel (Gisèle), Sybille Schmitz (Léone), Maurice Schutz (the Lord), Jan Hieronimko (the Doctor), and Henriette Gérard (Marguerite Chopin); score by Wolfgang Zeller; cinematography by Rudolph Maté; screenplay by Christen Jul and Carl Theodor Dreyer; directed by Dreyer. Presented by the San Francisco Silent Film Festival at the Castro Theater with live orchestral accompaniment of Zeller's score arranged by Timothy Brock, performed by the SF Conservatory of Music Orchestra conducted by Brock, 12 January 2024.</p>
<blockquote><p>With <i>Vampyr</i> I wanted to create a waking dream on the screen and show that horror is not to be found in the things around us but in our own subconscious. —Carl Theodor Dreyer</p></blockquote>
<p>A traveler, Allan Gray, arrives at a remote chateau-turned-hotel in what seems to be a virtually abandoned village. He is surrounded by an atmosphere of uncertainty and dread. When he is finally able to rouse someone and is shown to a room, he looks out the window and sees a figure carrying a giant scythe ringing a bell on a jetty to summon the ferryman, like Death calling Charon.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrKaa8EVHpHkuertWoYMB5wAP0J38mrZES7fIfEIj0H7xi38CniN1TvOGmglwhQXGiVm7m31OoK8rsfLeq_4Ti3m1DdPivAgclpsZhQ_L5xexLcJ97vSlZ0hpImQ39a2-s2qfQP9pUiOhB6gaF5BtyU2sjWuKg7Ea0Gw1b3W2h1QUDWpDw65XV7PL/s600/vampyr54_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="600" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrKaa8EVHpHkuertWoYMB5wAP0J38mrZES7fIfEIj0H7xi38CniN1TvOGmglwhQXGiVm7m31OoK8rsfLeq_4Ti3m1DdPivAgclpsZhQ_L5xexLcJ97vSlZ0hpImQ39a2-s2qfQP9pUiOhB6gaF5BtyU2sjWuKg7Ea0Gw1b3W2h1QUDWpDw65XV7PL/s16000/vampyr54_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.carlthdreyer.dk/en/carlthdreyer/films/features/vampyr">carlthdreyer.dk</a></p>
<p>A print hanging in Gray's room shows a deathbed scene, with a skeleton holding a dagger poised over the stricken victim. And Death does indeed loom over the inhabitants of the chateau. A father and his two daughters, Gisèle and Léone, live there, but Léone is wasting away. The father has dark premonitions, and leaves a package with Gray to be opened on the event of his death—which indeed comes to pass almost immediately afterwards.</p>
<p>The package contains a volume on the lore of vampires and devil worship, and Gray is soon convinced that Léone has become a vampire's prey. A strange doctor who visits only at night may be the vampire's accomplice, along with a wounded soldier whose shadow seems to wander about without him. (Throughout the film shadows are seen without the presence of any substantial body to cast them.)</p>
<p>Events unfold with the logic of a nightmare, a feeling enhanced by the
hazy soft-focus cinematography (some scenes were shot through a gauze
scrim). In one of the film's most horrifying sequences, during a dream (or out-of-body experience) Gray looks into a coffin and sees himself lying dead.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRClU89RWzQjrAfF0AQnGqNcr9UmwpkVHD3jzA43qiwWidSXHQAmtLbOMXxRhFLDwp5K09PRe_n9fZMKsqJEFE-3NSo5ECdtrKHH8cUfMcBELMDYSGInu5bUcUJnjdeTfCYlaCG5SjD_1SR0CDue0HP5_fhIWnezbWGXkScORpbbOAh9Pu5ULGUCb/s1600/vampyr28_600.jpg" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="447" data-original-width="600" height="447" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRClU89RWzQjrAfF0AQnGqNcr9UmwpkVHD3jzA43qiwWidSXHQAmtLbOMXxRhFLDwp5K09PRe_n9fZMKsqJEFE-3NSo5ECdtrKHH8cUfMcBELMDYSGInu5bUcUJnjdeTfCYlaCG5SjD_1SR0CDue0HP5_fhIWnezbWGXkScORpbbOAh9Pu5ULGUCb/s1600/vampyr28_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.carlthdreyer.dk/en/carlthdreyer/films/features/vampyr">carlthdreyer.dk</a></p>
<p>The point of view then switches to inside the coffin, as it is sealed by the soldier and carried to the burying ground. A glass pane in the coffin lid allows Gray (and us) the horror of witnessing his (our) own funeral.</p>
<p>In creating the screenplay Dreyer and his co-writer Christen Jul drew on elements from previous vampire incarnations. The vampire choosing as a victim a young woman living with her father in an isolated castle is taken from Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's <i>Carmilla</i> (1872). The idea that the vampire commands mortal servants who are compelled to do its bidding comes from Bram Stoker's <i>Dracula</i> (1897). And the image of the vampire as an aged and horror-inducing figure—rather than a seductive and alluring one as in <i>Carmilla, Dracula</i> or John Polidori's <i>The Vampyre</i> (1818)—derives from F. W. Murnau's film <i>Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror</i> (1922).</p>
<p>In composing shots Dreyer also drew on visual imagery. When Gray first sees the vampire feeding on its victim, the dark figure crouching over the young woman in a nightgown recalls Henry Fuseli's <i>The Nightmare</i> (seen at the top of this post):</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCcrHuVEeIvmD-wB-9OtHoIMCn04L8lzITcPou3AO9VrPolMhu2mVnaFvX0Dk3Vj41NheQRfRXibzFFL7lzBadvd_Jh5XhtD1LQABO1fi2UMotCrwQI5wU0Rr2UkeQRZzvukKpo0OoYv5B-Qjp1QUDdoBJNJh6fSlAgym2umWZi_XwEsiMih-cIs6O/s600/vampyr_succubus_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="600" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCcrHuVEeIvmD-wB-9OtHoIMCn04L8lzITcPou3AO9VrPolMhu2mVnaFvX0Dk3Vj41NheQRfRXibzFFL7lzBadvd_Jh5XhtD1LQABO1fi2UMotCrwQI5wU0Rr2UkeQRZzvukKpo0OoYv5B-Qjp1QUDdoBJNJh6fSlAgym2umWZi_XwEsiMih-cIs6O/s16000/vampyr_succubus_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">The vampire feeds on Léone.</p>
<p>The musical soundtrack for the film was composed by Wolfgang Zeller, who had previously scored Lotte Reininger's animated film <i>The Adventures of Prince Achmed</i> (1926) and Louise Brooks' first sound film <i>Prix de Beauté</i> (1930). It is not a stereotypical horror-film soundtrack; in the versions of <i>Vampyr</i> that I've seen previously it is often an almost subliminal presence, an aural correlative to cinematographer Rudolph Maté's ghostly, indistinct images.</p>
<p>It was wonderful to hear the score performed live by the young musicians of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music Orchestra at the SF Silent Film Festival screening of <i>Vampyr</i> at the 1400-seat Castro Theater. And that experience made me hear it differently. Dreyer's film includes intertitles and has minimal dialogue, and so the music is almost a continual presence. Conductor Timothy Brock reorchestrated some sections and increased the number of strings, giving the music greater volume and richness, and also making it a more prominent element than on the recorded soundtrack.</p>
<p>The SF Silent Film Festival showed the German version of the film that was restored in 1999 by Martin Koerber, curator at the Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin, and Nicola Mazzanti, head of L'imagine ritrovato laboratory in Bologna. Dreyer shot three takes of all the dialogue scenes, with the actors
speaking German, French, or English in turn (the sound was post-synchronized). However, the original camera and sound negatives have been lost, and the German version is missing footage. Censors demanded cuts, and Dreyer also probably re-edited the film after its disastrous Berlin première.</p>
<p>Despite these issues, the film looked great, and seeing it on the Castro's vast screen, as it was meant to be seen, was a true privilege. Many thanks to the good friends who gave us tickets to the sold-out showing of this horror classic with live accompaniment, and to the SF Silent Film Festival for giving us one last great movie experience in the Castro Theater before it closes next month to reopen as a music venue in 2025.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjL71uNMV6qSABYzShk29MQDx2ieldS4R-80nJH0L7AWQsAyVo4S_hivQxi5lXU-HrQyogivaozbB5ts_0PmbXNgJnKWawwtqEUSaUZLCjZjojqunoGGfv4NZYRWJAaO1SyUu7T12DaWp0U2xngzkCq2hbbKv6-mT0Pcl3yBIrEVCgtV4EukhkBEX/s831/goya_sueno_nlm_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="600" height="665" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjL71uNMV6qSABYzShk29MQDx2ieldS4R-80nJH0L7AWQsAyVo4S_hivQxi5lXU-HrQyogivaozbB5ts_0PmbXNgJnKWawwtqEUSaUZLCjZjojqunoGGfv4NZYRWJAaO1SyUu7T12DaWp0U2xngzkCq2hbbKv6-mT0Pcl3yBIrEVCgtV4EukhkBEX/s16000/goya_sueno_nlm_600.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"The sleep of reason produces monsters," Plate 43 of <i>Los Caprichos</i> by Francisco Goya, 1799. Image source: <a href="https://www.nlm.nih.gov/hmd/goya/prints.html" target="_blank">History of Medicine Division, US National Library of Medicine</a>.</p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-1532493191710755892024-01-15T11:25:00.000-08:002024-01-16T05:14:11.622-08:00In memoriam: Joan Acocella<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6sCib_bXfnsxBXl2H9AoXJnIf7dWIfmjBqdHlFSyhyphenhyphenRycYO1OPXX3aIcl04-N7jbIA-t3c8WOaMfTCkblVkJiDx5AJFgSDs2RN5hF7kPkHPmLjfVa2s4Gsi_nBNJAbXVcXX-hg17g1vX7M_J45BwsUibf2iL3IF7HIiLaVHVsXeG9pZCZlI9b24E/s600/joan_acocella_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="600" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6sCib_bXfnsxBXl2H9AoXJnIf7dWIfmjBqdHlFSyhyphenhyphenRycYO1OPXX3aIcl04-N7jbIA-t3c8WOaMfTCkblVkJiDx5AJFgSDs2RN5hF7kPkHPmLjfVa2s4Gsi_nBNJAbXVcXX-hg17g1vX7M_J45BwsUibf2iL3IF7HIiLaVHVsXeG9pZCZlI9b24E/s16000/joan_acocella_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.nybooks.com/online/2023/06/10/dancing-queen-joan-acocella/" target="_blank">New York Review of Books</a></p>
<p>Joan Acocella, a longtime writer for <i>The New York Review of Books</i> and <i>The New Yorker, </i>died on Sunday 7 January at her home in New York City. She published several books; if you'd like a taste of her essays and reviews, I recommend <i>Twenty-Eight Artists and Two Saints</i> (Pantheon/Vintage, 2007), which covers her literary, historical and (especially) dance interests.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpDFEumX9E0DvSDzMR5q6dURxHz4u9rJCBCG-oFnpCplfVfVFIaACcU4-B4AJbEB1OXwU9APv7B3S1ZA3PaQUVSnlMWvVgHTjAPqi0RaMOwy4q2RYTL9dNPAl1uO4Ozx_IWK2MxMVfO219rgioCvXlsMAifOznUnfmaXMF8xgfaGOqZL0FWDPm0I4/s797/acocella_twenty-eight_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="797" data-original-width="480" height="797" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpDFEumX9E0DvSDzMR5q6dURxHz4u9rJCBCG-oFnpCplfVfVFIaACcU4-B4AJbEB1OXwU9APv7B3S1ZA3PaQUVSnlMWvVgHTjAPqi0RaMOwy4q2RYTL9dNPAl1uO4Ozx_IWK2MxMVfO219rgioCvXlsMAifOznUnfmaXMF8xgfaGOqZL0FWDPm0I4/s16000/acocella_twenty-eight_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.biblio.com/book/twenty-eight-artists-two-saints-essays/d/1212934152?aid=frg&gad_source=1&gclid=CjwKCAiAzJOtBhALEiwAtwj8tvGigWGdjDWvkLySM9AmQ1S0O507VlOvV_qegc9F49X5ocnBOyrJ6RoCReUQAvD_BwE" target="_blank">Biblio</a></p>
<p>It is as a dance critic that I think Acocella will be longest remembered. Dance is concrete, since it is made up of the movements of individual bodies, but is also abstract: what does a particular movement, especially in non-narrative modern dance, actually mean? Acocella had the rare ability to write descriptively and critically about specific dance works and their creators in a way understandable to those of us who haven't mastered technical ballet vocabulary. She had taken ballet lessons for many years, and later studied literature at university. As she said in <a href="https://www.nybooks.com/online/2023/06/10/dancing-queen-joan-acocella/" target="_blank">a 2023 interview in the <i>New York Review of Books</i></a>,</p>
<blockquote>. . .ballet, because it is fundamentally abstract, taught me to stay close to style and tone, and not always to be so intent on the story. Conversely, literature taught me to be concerned about the moral life, in dance, too—how people behave toward one another, and what they take from and give to one another.</blockquote>
<p>Two examples will have to suffice, representing many. In <a href="https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2023/06/08/the-real-world-is-not-here-george-balanchine-joan-acocella/" target="_blank">her last review for the NYRB</a>, of a recent two-volume biography by Jennifer Homans of George Balanchine, Acocella wrote of Balanchine that, "like Mozart, he often gladdens your heart in order, then, to break it, whereupon, in the next movement, he tells us that we have to go on living anyway." This is a brilliant encapsulation both of Mozart's work, and Balanchine's. And in <a href="https://www.nybooks.com/online/2023/06/10/dancing-queen-joan-acocella/" target="_blank">her final interview with the NYRB</a>, published in conjunction with the review, she was asked about special relationships between dancers and choreographers, such as that of Suzanne Farrell and Balanchine. She responded in part, "Mikhail Baryshnikov and Twyla Tharp. She made pieces that were about him as a dancer. The more she did that, the more he worked on those gifts, and she then carried that style—a combination of a kind of skepticism and thoughtfulness, extreme virtuosity combined with a certain declining modesty—over to other dancers, and indeed to her ensemble. You could say they were destined to find each other, and each brought a great deal that was fresh to the other."</p>
<p>The Acocella work that had the biggest impact on me was her critical biography of the choreographer and dancer Mark Morris, published by Farrar Straus & Giroux in 1993.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8QEtbHiTQdbNm09dnKt2BbtyCRZcqyoSa-rzFMocYbDEqNGxACaG1MXYq6-zcf3E4aOUenOts1yJ9Qz7XX9_eFCYlXaZO0JWBo0U1u6DTZvxcNEOhcRR0vh6ZbtxyYT1lkUDvi3u858-cJFDdGb9pWNkLcDHU5f7xrXFvqA1RMpTkoTkVx3r3pxI9/s666/acocella_mark_morris_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="480" height="666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8QEtbHiTQdbNm09dnKt2BbtyCRZcqyoSa-rzFMocYbDEqNGxACaG1MXYq6-zcf3E4aOUenOts1yJ9Qz7XX9_eFCYlXaZO0JWBo0U1u6DTZvxcNEOhcRR0vh6ZbtxyYT1lkUDvi3u858-cJFDdGb9pWNkLcDHU5f7xrXFvqA1RMpTkoTkVx3r3pxI9/s16000/acocella_mark_morris_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://biblio.co.uk/book/mark-morris-morris-mark-acocella-joan/d/638656214" target="_blank">Biblio</a></p>
<p>At the time Morris was not an obvious choice for book-length treatment: he was only 37, and there were many other more established choreographers in the New York dance world who had not yet had full-length studies written about them. (To take a few names at random: Lucinda Childs, Laura Dean, Eliot Feld, Robert Joffrey, Lar Lubovitch, and Twyla Tharp.) Also, the Mark Morris Dance Group had recently had a setback: its contract as the resident company at the Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie in Brussels was not renewed in 1991 after only three years. Morris's predecessor at La Monnaie, Maurice Béjart, choreographed there for nearly three decades; Morris and his dancers had been regularly and lustily booed.</p>
<p>We'd first encountered Morris as a dancer and choreographer for the White Oak Dance Project, where one of his collaborators was Mikhail Baryshnikov. My boss generously gave me his tickets to a November 1991 White Oak performance in Berkeley when it turned out that he was not able to go (afterwards we were so grateful we paid him in full). We were mainly eager to see Baryshnikov, who was indeed an utterly compelling performer. But Morris's work as a choreographer and as a graceful and charismatic dancer were the evening's greatest surprises, and my partner and I decided that any time Morris returned to the Bay Area we would buy tickets.</p>
<p>As it turned out, Morris came back the following season with the MMDG. We were astonished by the range of tone, movement, and music represented in his dances, from the urgent questioning of <i>Gloria</i> (set to Vivaldi) to the funny, lewd, and touching <i>Going Away Party</i> (set to the music of Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys). Morris immediately became our favorite living choreographer.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSvpJ47x5oFD4jxMgxnzC1N21fsGTeGEbdeLXrjUXoHyLgQEAN7HBYAtRUnWyZdYQoKDuj1LmD1GjXNzXQmd5ZKQEEgO0RqOec49qphrUQhfsinZuKD36nvwtgkAh4ZK8vFAJTD-rLT4leAH0b1Sxy_akVXF6jM_kT6dADauO-N2HIMQOO0n-RzDo/s600/Gloria-photo-by-Stephanie-Berger_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSvpJ47x5oFD4jxMgxnzC1N21fsGTeGEbdeLXrjUXoHyLgQEAN7HBYAtRUnWyZdYQoKDuj1LmD1GjXNzXQmd5ZKQEEgO0RqOec49qphrUQhfsinZuKD36nvwtgkAh4ZK8vFAJTD-rLT4leAH0b1Sxy_akVXF6jM_kT6dADauO-N2HIMQOO0n-RzDo/s16000/Gloria-photo-by-Stephanie-Berger_480.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Mark Morris Dance Group in <i>Gloria</i>. Photo credit: Stephanie Berger. Image source: <a href="https://markmorrisdancegroup.org/work/gloria/" target="_blank">Mark Morris Dance Company</a></p>
<p>Acocella's book on Morris came out the next year. It told the story of Morris's unconventional upbringing in Seattle, his early commitment to dancing and training with Verla Flowers, his tours as a teenager with the Koleda Folk Dance ensemble, his move to New York in 1975 at the age of 19, and the formation of his company in 1980 when he was 24. All of this was fascinating, but most remarkable was the book's description of Morris's time in Brussels. His work was rejected, even reviled, by Belgian audiences. As Acocella later wrote in the introduction to <i>Twenty-Eight Artists</i>,</p>
<blockquote>. . .Morris was received with scorn. The reviews were sulfurous; the shows were howled at. When Morris came out to take his curtain calls, the booing practically raised the roof. And he smiled and bowed and acted as though the audience were throwing bouquets at him. Then he went back to his studio, and for the three-year term of his contract—which almost anyone else, in his situation, would have canceled—he created a number of the greatest American dance works of the late twentieth century. (p. xviii)</blockquote>
<p>Among these works were <i>L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato</i> (set to Handel's oratorio), <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2015/05/attunement-conversion-experiences.html#dido" target="_blank"><b><i>Dido and Aeneas</i></b></a> (a danced version of Purcell's opera), and <i>The Hard Nut</i> (Morris's highly entertaining—and funny, lewd, and touching—version of Tchaikovsky's <i>The Nutcracker</i>). Acocella described each of these works, and many others, in vivid and insightful detail. </p><p>And thanks to Cal Performances' visionary director Robert Cole, all of these works (as well as Gluck's <i>Orfeo ed Euridice</i> and Rameau's <i>Platée</i>, both operas directed and choreographed by Morris) were brought to Berkeley, along with other MMDG programs, over the next few seasons. We soon determined that we would not only see every Mark Morris program, we would buy tickets to two separate performances each time (a practice we kept up for two decades). While our interest in Morris was initially sparked by my boss's generosity, Acocella's writing added depth and understanding to our enjoyment. Mark Morris changed our lives, and Joan Acocella helped us to see the full complexity, richness, and humor of his works. We will always be deeply grateful.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RNv6reQfEJ0NrMuhj-i5llyeSW2y1Jne2-3tSfZnd-JfZ6kIUiNusclX7Jgk_iMBL0e6pB0jNoAGkCIzSc2VG6KBmEeX_81fCRa3YaFe5rtpUOOsX7I2qQJ6-NHigutAox_AjV9NiZRgv1FHdyFsqnMdMOEnUPQ8REFPsktuPdmPznhPdBqLOo_1/s600/allegro_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RNv6reQfEJ0NrMuhj-i5llyeSW2y1Jne2-3tSfZnd-JfZ6kIUiNusclX7Jgk_iMBL0e6pB0jNoAGkCIzSc2VG6KBmEeX_81fCRa3YaFe5rtpUOOsX7I2qQJ6-NHigutAox_AjV9NiZRgv1FHdyFsqnMdMOEnUPQ8REFPsktuPdmPznhPdBqLOo_1/s16000/allegro_600.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Jenn Weddel, Stacy Martorana and Rita Donahue in <i>L’Allegro, il Penseroso, ed il Moderato</i>.<br />Photo credit: Kevin Yatarola. Image source: <a href="https://dancetabs.com/2013/11/mark-morris-dance-group-lallegro-il-penseroso-ed-il-moderato-new-york/" target="_blank">DanceTabs</a></p>
Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-45857898773834038082024-01-05T16:45:00.000-08:002024-01-06T05:19:11.210-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 6: Manga Stories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKIZA-F5JnEM7yQbB-cnN6UQ2OXRLoQSc-213Il2DKaRrc6o6r5fYqY5L1PiKdItK4jdMOrYCvUMWgxfyBBsHiAxwGaZauhjhTZRb5xcioyc-JjXweXRRSl1whUYsw7AEF3PnyMjY56va9xCmKGjNjRq9Go1twipdfcctZJepkhxqUnKTYYqECJT8/s728/manga_stories.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="500" height="699" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKIZA-F5JnEM7yQbB-cnN6UQ2OXRLoQSc-213Il2DKaRrc6o6r5fYqY5L1PiKdItK4jdMOrYCvUMWgxfyBBsHiAxwGaZauhjhTZRb5xcioyc-JjXweXRRSl1whUYsw7AEF3PnyMjY56va9xCmKGjNjRq9Go1twipdfcctZJepkhxqUnKTYYqECJT8/s16000/manga_stories.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.tuttlepublishing.com/japan/haruki-murakami-manga-stories-1-9784805317648" target="_blank">Tuttle</a></p>
<p><i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (Tuttle, 2023) adapts four Haruki Murakami short stories as comics, to powerful effect. Comics are a perfect medium for representing the sudden shifts in Murakami's fiction between everyday life and an alternate reality.</p>
<p>But before going further I have to address the title: "manga" is a term that, outside of Japan, is generally used to indicate Japanese comics. However, <i>Manga Stories</i> is the English-language publication of <i>Le septième homme et autres récits</i> (The seventh man and other stories, Delcourt, 2021), a <i>bande dessinée</i> adapted from four Murakami short stories by Jean-Christophe Deveney and illustrated by PMGL (Pierre-Marie Grille-Liou). The distinction isn't purely academic: it is one more manifestation of Murakami's international appeal. To add a further layer of internationality, <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> was issued by Tuttle, which is now a Hong Kong-based publisher. </p>
<p>The four Murakami stories were written in the decade between 1996 and 2005, and were published in two English-language collections. "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo" appeared in <i>after the quake</i> (Knopf, 2002, translated by Jay Rubin), and the other three in <i>Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman</i> (Knopf, 2006, translated by Philip Gabriel and Jay Rubin). All feature Murakami's trademark offhand surreality.</p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>In "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo," middle-aged salaryman Katagiri returns home from work to find a giant talking frog waiting for him. Frog reveals that in a few days Tokyo will be devastated by an earthquake caused by a huge Worm. Frog will descend beneath Tokyo to battle Worm, and because the struggle will take place directly underneath his office building Katagiri has been chosen to help. But he has no idea how to go about it; meanwhile, the fate of Tokyo rests in the balance. . .<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdqlRA9FahZDZPIFNyZMa71SRoWqvM8cc-lkid_gRMKKAOLFzRRPq6o6ASHNuMYOHL1S4Uo0jRKNNqCRAdy73rZ2Y78ur8SBcYqntIUsjOS5jpPQLcBMSZfWPf7m4RhLlSDRo5TztCCuCo1ynhsOldKLdLN1n-n_tUftuV1f0BzM13Snx34ST6vmJ/s1600/manga_stories_super-frog.png" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="510" height="678" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdqlRA9FahZDZPIFNyZMa71SRoWqvM8cc-lkid_gRMKKAOLFzRRPq6o6ASHNuMYOHL1S4Uo0jRKNNqCRAdy73rZ2Y78ur8SBcYqntIUsjOS5jpPQLcBMSZfWPf7m4RhLlSDRo5TztCCuCo1ynhsOldKLdLN1n-n_tUftuV1f0BzM13Snx34ST6vmJ/s1600/manga_stories_super-frog.png" width="480" /></a></div></li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>In "Where I'm Likely To Find It," a woman approaches a private detective for help. The previous week her husband was summoned for assistance by his elderly mother, who lives in the same apartment building. From there he called his wife to say that he would be back soon, and to ask her to make pancakes for breakfast. He then disappeared without a trace. The detective takes the job, but he isn't a detective (he just likes to hear people's stories and try to help them) and it isn't a job (he refuses to accept money). The search for the missing husband begins. . .<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmavhw35G8l6Nzaw0MawX9TZenDYXvUHpOcH-pyIbsy2A-op59R0XJzPovFGbOZhXM1w4GmaiWa1ry4LK_lOD8mB1xtQozXcM6LAB1sP592-7Ft7UbfMKI-py3BBiNpD16uK_E8_RWs9q6q5pV79CstlYgZw9SJTl_1RjaXh73ncK-zJoYaQCWOfre/s1600/manga_stories_where.png" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="510" height="668" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmavhw35G8l6Nzaw0MawX9TZenDYXvUHpOcH-pyIbsy2A-op59R0XJzPovFGbOZhXM1w4GmaiWa1ry4LK_lOD8mB1xtQozXcM6LAB1sP592-7Ft7UbfMKI-py3BBiNpD16uK_E8_RWs9q6q5pV79CstlYgZw9SJTl_1RjaXh73ncK-zJoYaQCWOfre/s1600/manga_stories_where.png" width="480" /></a></div></li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>In "Birthday Girl," a woman recounts the story of what happened on her 20th birthday (the equivalent of turning 21 in the U.S.). At the time she was working at an Italian restaurant; on that day she was called by a sick co-worker asking her to take her waitressing shift. She agreed, and when the manager also became ill, it fell to her to take his usual place and deliver the evening meal to the restaurant's owner. Although the owner lived on an upper floor of the restaurant's building, the waitress had never seen him before. On learning that it was her birthday, he offered her a special gift: he would fulfill one wish, whatever it was. He warned her to choose carefully: he could only grant one wish, and once it was granted it couldn't be changed. . .<br /><br />
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</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>In "The Seventh Man," the title character is haunted by a day in childhood when he was caught in a typhoon. After raging wind and rain have battered his family's house, an eerie calm descends: the eye of the storm is passing overhead. The child begs his father to let him go outside, despite radio warnings to stay indoors. His father agrees but cautions him to come right back, and the child heads down to the beach. On the way a playmate sees him and asks to go along. When they reach the beach, it is deserted; the tide is far out, and a vast expanse of sand stretches to the horizon. The boys start to explore the treasures that have been tossed up by the storm—but then the tide starts to come in, quickly. . .<br /><br />
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</ul>
<p>PMGL's drawings are vivid and full of detail; they are like the hyperreality of a dream. He changes graphic styles to match the tone of each story, as in the black-and-white renderings for "Where I'm Likely To Find It." In that story he also effectively employs cinematic framing, such as overhead, reverse-angle, and multiple-exposure views, to represent the protagonist's <i>film noir</i> fantasy. In "Birthday Girl" and "The Seventh Man," which are narrated by a character in the story, the sections in the present have a style different from that of the character's memories. But sometimes it is the lack of a change in style that is significant: in "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo" and "The Seventh Man," PMGL avoids signaling whether experiences that seem fantastical, or nightmarish, should be accepted (by the reader or the main characters) as real.<br /></p>
<p>A second volume of Murakami stories rendered in comics by the same team is <a href="https://www.tuttlepublishing.com/japan/haruki-murakami-manga-stories-2-9784805317679" target="_blank">scheduled to be published in April 2024</a>; it will include "The Second Bakery Attack" from <i><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The Elephant Vanishes</b></a></i> (Knopf, 1993). Judging on the basis of this first volume of <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i>, it will be well worth watching for.</p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank"><b>The English Library novels</b></a>: <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank"><b>The first U.S. publications</b></a>: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> (1982/1989) and <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World</i> (1985/1991)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The transition</b></a>: <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> (1980-91/1993) and <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> (1988/1994)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-4-wind-up-bird-chronicle.html" target="_blank"><b>International breakthrough</b></a>: <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank"><b>Film adaptation</b></a>: Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021)</li>
</ul>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-90390546283876218932023-12-31T11:21:00.000-08:002024-01-01T09:07:16.363-08:00Packing my library<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFKhDQHSyXc_FEk7V4PJUUuCmzBdtKjBmHIa3bNpASPF9OGYHnwFVK0h2-FTNM-7QHEQDRtAm29PmCDjmp07WZGL90JugrffUNgeu1Noi_SgIIauWjS6yHVPS6cJzxa1_NzdxGihpMcQ4se_K7yz42cxUhf1cz6GCDfLGnzI3LgULmeuT3ecf0_OE/s800/bookcase_A-C_crop_800.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="611" data-original-width="800" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFKhDQHSyXc_FEk7V4PJUUuCmzBdtKjBmHIa3bNpASPF9OGYHnwFVK0h2-FTNM-7QHEQDRtAm29PmCDjmp07WZGL90JugrffUNgeu1Noi_SgIIauWjS6yHVPS6cJzxa1_NzdxGihpMcQ4se_K7yz42cxUhf1cz6GCDfLGnzI3LgULmeuT3ecf0_OE/s16000/bookcase_A-C_crop_800.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">From Austen to Casanova on my "Authors before 1900" shelves. Storing books on top of other books can cause damage—please don't try this at home.</p>
<p>Every year around this time I confront an inviolable law of physics: my books take up more room than the space available on my shelves. This becomes inescapably apparent when the tottering stacks of books on practically every horizontal surface above floor level reach the point of critical instability, and I am compelled to find more permanent places for the new books I've acquired during the past twelve months through gifts from others and (far more numerous) myself.</p>
<p>Painful decisions are forced on me: which of my treasured volumes will have to be boxed up (and how will I remember that I have them, and where to find them)? Which will be sold back to my favorite used book shops? (This is hardly a solution, as I inevitably ask for trade credit, which I then use to bring home more books.) And which will be donated to my local library sales? (Again, not a solution, as when I drop off the donations I browse the new arrivals and find additional treasures.) Inevitably, sooner or later I regret the loss of the books I've sent away; I have even been known, after the agonizing process of deciding to give them up, to turn around and buy them back.</p>
<p>The German cultural critic Walter Benjamin wrote a famous essay entitled "Unpacking My Library," which is included in <i>Illuminations</i>, Hannah Arendt's selection of his essays. In it Benjamin describes opening the crates of his books after rescuing them from storage, taking time to renew his acquaintance with each and relive the memory of its acquisition:</p>
<blockquote>I am unpacking my library. Yes, I am. The books are not yet on the shelves, not yet touched by the mild boredom of order. . .Instead, I must ask you to join me in the disorder of crates that have been wrenched open. . .to join me among piles of volumes that are seeing daylight again after two years of darkness. (p. 59)</blockquote>
<p>I must invite you to join me among piles of books and open boxes, but for a process that reverses Benjamin's. Some of these books must enter the darkness, for who knows how long; others will be placed in sturdy bags for transportation to new homes (but will their new owners be deserving?).</p>
<p>Benjamin wrote that "for a collector—I mean a real collector, a collector as he ought to be—ownership is the most intimate relation one can have to objects. Not that they come alive in him; it is he who lives in them" (p. 67). I am hardly a book collector in Benjamin's sense, certainly not one as I "ought to be." I do see books as objects that are intrinsically beautiful, but also useful and pleasurable, and they can be desirable for any or all of those reasons.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqF4gtlIBa-TCbQgGdtWOIqnJoUsD_qpIBVuV2deqPZlYnK2DUGL0QEElaP3vFg9J7jePBNnLU2XQqGL-_vy0TETpwybBub7tsBM_AhTQVgSG0kHZBjlhOG5kMRE1puo3sJQXceZe1-u5pJgVuKT_tr5WOd50G4B4_dlhM3OMlsSfbbxyACBICAbS/s800/music_case_1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="485" data-original-width="800" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqF4gtlIBa-TCbQgGdtWOIqnJoUsD_qpIBVuV2deqPZlYnK2DUGL0QEElaP3vFg9J7jePBNnLU2XQqGL-_vy0TETpwybBub7tsBM_AhTQVgSG0kHZBjlhOG5kMRE1puo3sJQXceZe1-u5pJgVuKT_tr5WOd50G4B4_dlhM3OMlsSfbbxyACBICAbS/s16000/music_case_1.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">From <i>The Viking/New Penguin Opera Guide</i> (Amanda Holden, editor) to <i>Mozart's Operas</i> (Daniel Heartz) on my music books shelves.</p>
<p>I remember the circumstances of acquisition of some of my books: the volumes received as gifts from my partner, relatives, or good friends, or the electric discovery of a radically underpriced rarity on a bookshop's shelves. And books picked up while traveling recall memories not only of the books, but of the journey. As Benjamin notes, "I have made my most memorable purchases on trips, as a transient. . .How many cities have revealed themselves to me in the marches I undertook in the pursuit of books!" (p. 63). Some of the London neighborhoods most familiar to me are those in which Oxfam book shops happen to be located.</p>
<p>Also memorable, in a more painful way, are the books I didn't buy on trips because the prospect of lugging them home along with all my other acquisitions was too daunting. Jenny Uglow's 700-page biography in letters <i>Elizabeth Gaskell: A Habit of Stories</i> will just have to await another opportunity.</p>
<p>But mainly for each book I remember the excitement of the first time I read them. Most of the books that have found places on my shelves have done so because they have been especially important to me, and trace a process of exploration and discovery of new writers and new subjects of interest. And yes, unlike some book <strike>addicts</strike> collectors I've read about, I've actually read the vast majority of the books on my shelves.</p>
<p>The books in piles everywhere tend to fall into three categories: books that await their turn in my reading queue; books that I'm currently reading (and yes, at any time there are usually multiple titles in this category); and books that I've read and want to keep. But which of the books already on my shelves should they displace, if any?</p>
<p>As a troublesome case in point, one of the books I have to make a decision on today is a three-volume edition of Samuel Pepys' complete diary, edited with notes by Henry B. Wheatley. The diary is a key document of that tumultuous time in British history from just before the restoration of King Charles II in 1660 until a few years after the Great Fire of London in 1666; these years also saw the Great Plague of 1665-66, and the Dutch raids on the English coast and up the Thames during the Second Anglo-Dutch War.</p>
<p>This edition is in handsome navy blue cloth (how appropriate, since Pepys was a naval administrator—no doubt that's the explanation of the decorative knotwork on the spines as well), letterpress-printed on bright, crisp India paper in a small but readable font, and with dimensions that fit nicely in the hand (about 7.5 inches tall by about 4.75 inches wide).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbgMRCOfbt3M_EIEY4vnwpB3hG8nmnplQKNcoS1ghrpt9LmMSTK-ceIkjmjOsE7cNOtjiTBH-a5u1aWGVbM7AwkHp9dxKsL_qIsPPXxCP-k83t7etGyHnlA_TUG_z1N7hdBL8cWIj2_CwJYvIDu-QN23e2e98UBi6TzjxydBnDKC8BeMGszFlFaoQ/s800/pepys_2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbgMRCOfbt3M_EIEY4vnwpB3hG8nmnplQKNcoS1ghrpt9LmMSTK-ceIkjmjOsE7cNOtjiTBH-a5u1aWGVbM7AwkHp9dxKsL_qIsPPXxCP-k83t7etGyHnlA_TUG_z1N7hdBL8cWIj2_CwJYvIDu-QN23e2e98UBi6TzjxydBnDKC8BeMGszFlFaoQ/s16000/pepys_2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p>Since acquiring this edition over a decade ago I have regularly made a resolution to read it. I have considered several general plans for tackling the diary's several thousand entries:</p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Beginning with Pepys' first entry for 1 January 1659 (Old Style; 1660 New Style), read the entry corresponding to the day of the year. So I'd read the entries for 1660 a day at a time in 2024, those for 1661 in 2025, and so on. This is the method adopted by Phil Guyford's site <a href="https://www.pepysdiary.com/" target="_blank">The Diary of Samuel Pepys</a> (which is a year ahead of me). The advantage of this plan is that reading one entry per day (even with dense footnoting) seems pretty doable. The obvious disadvantage of this plan is that I wouldn't finish until 31 May 2033.<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Trying to complete the entire diary in a year. Pepys was a regular diarist, and so this would require reading roughly ten entries per day, every day. This also presents the question of whether the diary should be read chronologically, or whether every entry for a particular day (1 January, say) should be read on the corresponding day. The entries are not generally lengthy, and some are only a paragraph or two. Still, the daily task is daunting. When I've tried this in the past, inevitably I've had to skip a day or two, and then catching up became too difficult.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Giving up the idea of reading the complete diary and picking up a one-volume selection instead, such as <i>The Shorter Pepys</i> (Robert Latham, editor). For someone who has read Samuel Richardson's <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2015/06/clarissa-on-smartphone.html" target="_blank">Clarissa</a></b></i> and <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2019/07/sir-charles-grandison-volume-1.html" target="_blank">Sir Charles Grandison</a></b></i>, this seems an ignominious admission of defeat.</li>
</ul>
<p>Or, does this set go into a box to present a future quandary? Or should it find another, more dedicated home? These are the judgments—read immediately, or later (and if so, when?); shelve, or box; keep, or recirculate—that have to be made dozens of times as I try to bring some order to the chaotic jumble of my unshelved books. Librarian, organize thyself.</p>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-85628638887004309862023-12-25T07:03:00.000-08:002023-12-25T07:03:04.838-08:00A Christmas wish<p>On Christmas, the mournful Coventry Carol for a mournful year:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="338" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/-7qYeZcOioI?si=cYKWO0qzD0H6O8uI" title="YouTube video player" width="600"></iframe></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Voces8 performing Philip Stopford's setting of "Lully, Lulla, Lullay" in St Stephen's Walbrook Church, London:<br />
<a href="https://youtu.be/-7qYeZcOioI" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/-7qYeZcOioI</a></p>
<p>In the coming year, may we have fewer reasons to mourn and more opportunities to celebrate peace and joy.</p>
Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-42737483451745471472023-12-23T21:28:00.000-08:002023-12-26T09:22:46.215-08:00Favorites of 2023: Books - Our year of Byron<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kvCzaEipht00Frzdz2uh3HkM2fEhbKc21tZPQuv7dH_Sveh_FOTLz7kqBTH_2qf7ae1lR5rb2nXnRipLKFo_6q6_MV_7fJ3rZ6H_Cwzx24FDf79xECkVzUrkU4TUs5nVBc8uX1Q6GZir2ukejrk446YnYiHTl-yBHIccwe1wsyrRrf-l2osaN5JC/s1600/padua_thrilling_adventures_p32_600.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="600" height="860" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kvCzaEipht00Frzdz2uh3HkM2fEhbKc21tZPQuv7dH_Sveh_FOTLz7kqBTH_2qf7ae1lR5rb2nXnRipLKFo_6q6_MV_7fJ3rZ6H_Cwzx24FDf79xECkVzUrkU4TUs5nVBc8uX1Q6GZir2ukejrk446YnYiHTl-yBHIccwe1wsyrRrf-l2osaN5JC/s1600/padua_thrilling_adventures_p32_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Sydney Padua, <i>The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage</i> (Pantheon, 2015), p. 32. Image source: <a href="https://www.comicsbeat.com/interview-sydney-padua-presents-the-thrilling-adventures-of-lovelace-and-babbage-2/">The Beat, the blog of comics culture</a></p>
<p>For the final Favorites of 2023 post, I offer my favorite books first read in 2023 that were not written by Agatha Christie. (If you are curious about her exclusion, she has her own post: <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a>.)</p>
<h3><b>Fiction</b></h3>
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<td style="padding: 20px 5px 15px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;">
<b>Sydney Padua, <i>The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage</i></b> (Pantheon, 2015), pp. 30–317.<br /><br />
In 2009 over a beer at a pub, animator Sydney Padua was commissioned by Suw Charman-Anderson, who was planning the first annual Ada Lovelace Day, to produce a short web comic on Ada's life. Ada Lovelace was the daughter of Lord Byron and his wife Annabella Milbanke; she was a mathematical prodigy who wrote what has been called the first computer program for Cambridge professor Charles Babbage's calculating machine, the Analytical Engine. She has become an icon for girls and women who code. But she was only 36 when she died of cancer.<br /><br />
In the preface to <i>Thrilling Adventures</i> Padua writes, "Lovelace died young. Babbage died a miserable old man. There never was a gigantic steam-powered computer. This seemed an awfully grim ending for my little comic. And so I threw in a couple of drawings at the end, imagining for them another, better, more thrilling comic-book universe to live on in" (p. 7).<br /><br />
Those "couple of drawings" grew into the 300-page <i>Thrilling Adventures</i>. Each adventure takes place in a steampunk alternate universe in which a full-scale Analytical Engine has been built. Over the course of <i>Thrilling Adventures</i> Lovelace and Babbage encounter the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Queen Victoria, the novelist George Eliot, the logician George Boole, and the world of Lewis Carroll's Alice stories. <br /><br />
Padua's <i>Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage</i> is an exhilaratingly witty and imaginative journey through computer history and the Victorian scientific, political, and literary worlds. For my full-length post, please see <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/02/thrilling-adventures-lovelace-babbage.html" target="_blank"><b>The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage</b></a>.</td>
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<b>Ellen Wood: <i>East Lynne</i></b> (Oxford World's Classics, 2008, originally published 1861)<br /><br />
Like half a dozen Victorian novels in one, <i>East Lynne</i> offers a dizzying array of narrative incident: unrequited love, false identities, mismatched marriage, murder, adultery, self-sacrifice, and two wrenching deathbed scenes. A hugely influential bestseller in the last half of the 19th century and for decades afterwards—Tolstoy had a copy of <i>East Lynne</i> in his library and drew inspiration from it for <i>Anna Karenina</i> (1878), and it was adapted as both silent and sound films—in the past half-century Wood's novel has fallen into relative obscurity. As I wrote in "<a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/03/ellen-wood-east-lynne.html" target="_blank"><b>My sin was great, but my suffering was greater</b></a>," "<i>East Lynne</i> deserves a contemporary readership for its compelling story (including a jaw-dropping plot twist two-thirds of the way through) and its multilayered characters. They, like ourselves, act out of a mixture of motives, and discover that actions taken in the heat of an impulsive moment can bring lasting regret."</td>
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<h4>Honorable mention</h4>
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<td style="padding: 20px 5px 15px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Madame de Staël: Corinne, or Italy</b> (Oxford World's Classics, originally published 1807)<br /><br />
Lord Oswald Nelvil, a young man traveling in Europe to try to distract himself from deep grief, meets Corinne, a woman who dazzles the literary and social world of Rome with her poetic improvisations. The two fall in love, but both are wary of emotional attachment: Oswald because a previous love affair ended badly, and Corinne because she fears Oswald will want her to give up her life as an artist.<br /><br />
This story of impossible love is just the sort that appeals to me. But <i>Corinne, or Italy</i> earns honorable mention rather than favorite status due to its heroine's many discussions of national and regional character, which are inevitably filled with stereotypical generalizations. In these we hear the voice of the author, herself a leading figure in Romanticism and in the liberal opposition to Napoleon Bonaparte. But these lengthy digressions—while undoubtedly reflecting conversations taking place in salons around Europe—have not worn well with the passage of time, and slow the momentum of its central love story.<br /><br />
Byron, who met de Staël for the first time after this novel was published, wrote that she was "sometimes right and often wrong about Italy and England—but almost always true in delineating the heart, which is of but one nation of no country, or rather, of all." If only she had given less attention in <i>Corinne</i> to outlining in broad strokes the differences between the Italians and the English, or between Tuscans and Neopolitans, and more attention to delineating the heart.</td>
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<h3><b>Nonfiction</b></h3>
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<b>Sydney Padua, <i>The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage</i></b> (Pantheon, 2015), pp. 1–29.<br /><br />
No, you are not having an episode of déjà vu. The final 290 or so pages of Padua's book are a steampunk fantasy of the Victorian era, and thus won a place in my Favorites of 2023: Fiction. But the first 30 pages are a straightforward biography of Ada Lovelace and her intellectual collaborations with Charles Babbage, inventor of the Difference and Analytical Engines.<br /><br />
Ada was 17 years old in 1833 when she met middle-aged Cambridge math professor Charles Babbage. It was intellectual sympathy at first sight. Babbage was demonstrating his Difference Engine calculating machine, and Ada immediately grasped its principles. Babbage went on to design the even more sophisticated Analytical Engine, which used punchcards to govern its operations (the idea was derived from mechanical Jacquard looms). Ada, now Lady Lovelace, translated a French-language article on the Analytical Engine based on a lecture Babbage gave. To the 25-page article she appended 41 pages of her own notes, in which she included a method for calculating Bernoulli numbers using the Engine. Her algorithm has been called the first computer program.<br /><br />
Lovelace may have become addicted to the opium prescribed to help her breathing difficulties (probably due to the smothering London "fog" of coal and wood smoke). Opium lowers inhibitions, and this may have been the reason she spent so many years trying to perfect a system for gambling on horse races (which, of course, failed, and caused her to lose huge sums).<br /><br />
In 1852 at age 36 Ada was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and died two weeks before her 37th birthday. After her death Babbage made little further progress on the Analytical Engine. Never able to raise sufficient funds to construct it, he spent much of his time writing splenetic letters to London newspapers trying to whip up public campaigns against noisy street musicians and children rolling hoops on cobblestones. Babbage survived Ada by 19 years.<br /><br />
Padua tells Ada's story with economy and graphic verve. Ada was a mathematician at a time when women were not considered by many men to possess sufficiently logical brains to comprehend the subject. She anticipated computer programming and its application to areas beyond algebraic calculations a century in advance of the development of the technology. It's a striking and too-little-known story, earning Padua's <i>Thrilling Adventures</i> a place among my nonfiction favorites too.</td>
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<td style="padding: 15px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Jenny Diski: <i>Why Didn't You Just Do What You Were Told?</i></b> (Bloomsbury, 2020)<br /><br />
One of the chief pleasures of reading the <i>London Review of Books</i> over the past three decades was finding a Jenny Diski essay inside. She started writing for the LRB in May 1992, and continued until February 2016, two months before her far-too-young death at 68. Altogether she wrote something like 215 pieces for the magazine (145 articles, 65 blog posts, and 5 letters); one appeared roughly every third issue over that span. But somehow her contributions felt rarer than that, more unexpected. They were always a special delight, generally read first, or saved for the last before starting all over again.<br /><br />
She was bluntly honest, outspoken, and at times shockingly self-revealing. She did not mince words or suffer fools. She asked uncomfortable questions, of herself and us, and often found uncomfortable answers. She could also be very funny, in a dark and sometimes acerbic sort of way.<br /><br />
<i>Why Didn't You Just Do What You Were Told?</i> is a selection of 33 of her pieces, chosen by her longtime LRB editor Mary-Kay Wilmers. They range from her very first article for the LRB, "Moving Day," to the piece she wrote in September 2014, "A Diagnosis," on learning of the cancer that would kill her 19 months later. (The Diski essays that follow "A Diagnosis" that are both "another fucking cancer diary" and an ambivalent memoir of being taken in as a troubled adolescent by the writer Doris Lessing were collected in another essential volume, <i>In Gratitude</i> (Bloomsbury, 2017)—a nicely double-edged Diskian title.)<br /><br />
Here's a characteristically observant excerpt from "Moving Day," a Diary piece about about moving her ex-Live-in-Lover out of her apartment:<br /><br />
<div style="margin-left: 2em;">There was only one moment of open disharmony in the whole event. It echoed the tension there had been all along. There was always an inequality of certainty about the project of us living together. He spoke easily about <i>forever</i>. I did not consider the week after next a safe bet. In recognition of our different styles I bought him an ironic bottle of wine when he moved in, chosen to be ready to drink in 1997, on my 50th birthday. It was partly a small gesture of risk, but mostly I expected to be doing exactly what I was doing with it today: popping it into one of the card-board boxes of his belongings, well before 1997. We stood in the doorway looking at the bottle in the box on the floor. He said he didn’t want it. I said it wasn’t mine, and neither did I. The stalemate was broken when I took the bottle by its neck from the box, and swung it (I like to think with some elegance) against the stone step by the drain in the front yard. A storm cloud accompanied the crash of breaking glass, and darkened the day with the threat of sudden, electric rage from each of us. It took a dangerous moment to pass over: but it did, and the milder breeziness returned. 'Nice one,' he said. 'Thank you,' I smiled, with a warm inner glow of satisfaction at the unlaunching of us. No sense crying over spilt claret.</div><br />
The image of unlaunching her relationship by the spontaneous smashing an unwanted bottle of wine is a brilliant Diskian inspiration.<br /><br />
This first piece also talks about an absent daughter off on holiday castrating sheep (sometimes the ready-made symbolism of real life is so obvious that you need do nothing more to emphasize it); a sick cat at the vet's requiring a major operation; a visit to orangutans at the zoo as research for a novel in progress (<i>Monkey's Uncle</i>, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1994, in which an orangutan character named Jenny, who wears a tea dress and high heels, has an independent existence in the imagination of the main character); and her overwhelming desire to be by herself and write:<br /><br />
<div style="margin-left: 2em;">This is it, then. Me in my space. Me and my melancholy.<br /><br />
I do nothing. I get on with the new novel. Smoke. Drink coffee. Smoke. Write. Stare at ceiling. Smoke. Write. Lie on the sofa. Drink coffee. Write.<br /><br />
It is a kind of heaven. This is what I was made for. It is doing nothing. A fraud is being perpetrated: writing is not work, it’s doing nothing. It’s not a fraud: doing nothing is what I have to do to live. Or: doing writing is what I have to do to do nothing. Or: doing nothing is what I have to do to write. Or: writing is what I have to do to be my melancholy self. And be alone.</div><br />
It's no wonder Diski became a regular contributor after this piece. It was a high standard to live up to—her own—but her subsequent work was always readable and usually much more. Inevitably some of the articles included in this collection have outlived the occasion for which they were written, but even her reviews of forgotten books are often entertaining—probably more entertaining than the books themselves.<br /><br />
One recommendation: I found that my first impulse was to binge-read her essays, because so many of them are so good ("Moving Day" as Exhibit A). But I found that it was best to ration them to just one essay at a sitting. Like glasses of good wine, they are meant to be savored, not gulped down, and too many in a row diminishes, rather than enhances, their effect.<br /></td>
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<b>Iris Origo, <i>War in Val d'Orcia</i></b> (New York Review Books, 2018, originally published 1947).<br /><br />
In the years leading up to World War II, Iris Origo—a wealthy Anglo-American born in Britain and raised in Italy—and her Italian husband Antonio lived on the estate of La Foce in Tuscany's bucolic Val d'Orcia. They had married in 1924, just a year and a half after Mussolini seized power and Italy became a fascist state. But their wealth largely insulated them from uncomfortable encounters with the <i>fascisti</i>, and they spent the 1930s restoring their historic manor.<br /><br />
The world of dictatorship and war could not be held at bay indefinitely, though, as the events of 1943–44 proved. In July 1943 Allied armies invaded Sicily, and Mussolini was dismissed and arrested. By early September the new Italian government had negotiated an armistice, and an Allied invasion of the southern Italian mainland had begun. To many it seemed as though the war in Italy was about to end.<br /><br />
Instead, the German army seized control, freed Mussolini and occupied Rome. The new government fled. The Allied advance up the boot of Italy was hindered by terrain, German defenses, and bitter winter weather. It wasn't until June 1944 that the U.S. Fifth Army entered Rome. The German army made a fighting retreat northward from Rome, and for several days Val d'Orcia became a fierce battleground.<br /><br />
Origo's recounting of the events of these tumultuous twelve months—subsisting on rumors of Allied victories; traveling on roads strafed by Allied planes; providing food, clothing and medical care to partisans, deserters, and escaped prisoners (activities which could have led, had they been caught, to the Origos' summary execution); and huddling in the basement for shelter with the children under their care while shells and bombs fall around them—is riveting.<br /><br />
No matter what perils she, her family, and the communities surrounding La Foce are facing, Origo relates them in spare, clear, dispassionate prose. It's a truly remarkable display of coolness under almost unimaginable circumstances. Her avoidance of emotionally heightened descriptions actually increases the reader's sense of tension. And as I read of her experiences eighty years ago as a civilian trying to protect herself and her loved ones in the midst of industrialized warfare, the news was filled with the destruction of Gaza and with drone and missile attacks on Ukrainian cities. The horrors Origo experienced are still with us.</td>
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<td style="padding: 15px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Iris Origo: <i>The Last Attachment</i></b> (Pushkin Press, 2017, originally published 1949)<br /><br />
We did not start out purposely with this object in mind, but in retrospect, both in fiction and nonfiction, this was our year of Lord Byron. He was the father of Ada Lovelace, an intimate of Madame de Staël (but no, not <i>that</i> intimate, so far as we know), and the subject of Iris Origo's <i>The Last Attachment</i>, the first publication of his letters to his married Italian lover Teresa Guiccioli.<br /><br />
Byron met the 18-year-old Teresa at a Venice <i>conversazione</i> in April 1819. It was just a year after her marriage to Count Alessandro Guiccioli, a man forty years her senior; Teresa was his third wife. The marriage had been contracted, as was the custom, by Teresa's father to help further his political ambitions. Byron was 31 and a notorious seducer of married women. One of his lovers, <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/01/elegant-madness-regency-england.html#caroline" target="_blank">Lady Caroline Lamb</a></b>, had famously said of him that he was "mad, bad, and dangerous to know."<br /><br />
So it proved. Teresa's meeting with Byron was love at first sight, at least for her. The night after that first meeting she waited until her husband was taking his post-dinner nap, then stepped into a gondola sent by Byron. In her later confession to her husband, Teresa wrote, "I was strong enough to resist at that first encounter, but was so imprudent as to repeat it the next day, when my strength gave way— for B. was not a man to confine himself to sentiment. And, the first step taken, there was no further obstacle in the following days."<br /><br />
But this turned out not to be a two-week, or two-month, affair. In his first letter to Teresa after their temporary separation three weeks later Byron wrote, "You sometimes tell me that I have been your first real Love — and I assure you that you shall be my last Passion." Their connection lasted until he sailed for Greece in July 1823 to join its independence struggle; there, of course, he met his premature death in April 1824.<br /><br />
Origo's cool, analytical style serves this sometimes overheated material well. Her focus is on the development of Byron's relationship with Teresa, rather than on extended analysis of Byron's published writing. (At the height of his affair with Teresa, and while living in her husband's house, he was composing Cantos III, IV and, after a pause of six months, V of his great poem <i>Don Juan</i>; there are some suggestive parallels.) Origo, unlike many others who have written about this period in Byron's life before and since, takes his relationship with Teresa as worthy of sustained attention, and proves it through her detailed readings of his letters to her. Many thanks to the friend who gave us both of the Origo volumes, rightly guessing that they would be of great interest.</td>
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<td style="padding: 15px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Katherine Rundell: <i>Super-Infinite: The Transformations of John Donne</i></b> (Faber, 2022)<br /><br />
Katherine Rundell is perhaps the anti-Iris Origo. Instead of cool dispassion, she offers vividly expressed enthusiasm. If you want to know why you should read the poems of Donne, an Elizabethan soldier and Jacobean cleric, <i>Super-Infinite</i> will give you ample reason—Rundell's lively style and high-spirited advocacy are utterly infectious.<br /><br />
If you are already familiar with Donne's poetry, Rundell does not generally provide lengthy analyses of individual works. Instead she aims to evoke in the reader the sensations that encountering Donne's poetry for the first time can inspire. Some of her descriptions can be over-fanciful or obscure, but most convey an excitement that at times borders on disbelief that a poet writing 400 years ago can speak to us so directly. Rundell also teases out some of the elaborate paradoxes that Donne constructed, and frames the work with resonant biographical and historical detail. There may be more in-depth and analytical studies of Donne, but none I'm aware of that is so readable.</td>
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<b>Katherine Rundell, <i>The Golden Mole</i></b> (Faber, 2022).<br /><br />
In February 2018 Katherine Rundell, adventurous spirit and scholar of 16th- and 17th-century British poetry, wrote a short essay for the <i>London Review of Books</i> entitled "Consider the Pangolin." Her vivid writing style combined with her unusual subject to compelling effect:<br /><br />
<div style="margin-left: 2em;">The pangolin is known as a scaly anteater, because of its diet, and because it's the only mammal entirely covered in scales, but the description does not acknowledge the fact that the scales are the same shade of grey-green as the sea in winter, and the face that of an unusually polite academic. The tongue of a pangolin is longer than its body, and it keeps it tidily furled in an interior pouch near its hip. The name comes from the Malay word <i>penggulung</i>, meaning 'roller'; when threatened they curl into a near-impenetrable ball.<br /><br />
Their defence mechanism has made them easy prey to humans; they effectively render themselves portable. Pangolins are currently the most trafficked animals in the world, their scales used in traditional Chinese medicines and their flesh eaten as a delicacy. . .Beijing customs have seized more than a tonne of scales being shipped into China; each tonne the equivalent of 1660 animals. It is a fact so exhausting, so dreary and grotesque, that it's difficult to fathom. We consume beautiful things.</div><br />
That essay was followed by eleven more over the next three years, about animals such as the lemur, the wombat, the narwhal, and the Golden Mole—as wonder-inspiring, and as threatened with extinction, as the pangolin. Those essays and ten more have been brought together in <i>The Golden Mole</i>, beautifully enhanced by the illustrations of Talya Baldwin. It's a book that everyone from a precocious child to a great-grandparent will enjoy and treasure, and the essays are the perfect length for reading aloud. Amazingly, it has no U.S. publisher, but copies are plentifully available from the bookshops of the <i><a href="https://www.londonreviewbookshop.co.uk/stock/the-golden-mole-and-other-living-treasure-katherine-rundell" target="_blank">London Review of Books</a></i> and the <i><a href="https://guardianbookshop.com/the-golden-mole-9780571362493" target="_blank">Guardian</a></i>, and you can also listen to <a href="https://www.londonreviewbookshop.co.uk/podcasts-video/podcasts/katherine-rundell-alice-spawls-the-golden-mole" target="_blank">an interview with the author</a> at the London Review Bookshop.</td>
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<h4>Honorable mention</h4>
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<td style="padding: 20px 5px 15px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Hua Hsu: <i>Stay True</i></b> (Doubleday, 2022)<br /><br />
College is a time of heightened experience. The tastes and aversions developed there, the late-night conversations held there, and the relationships formed there can be the most intense of our lives, and can powerfully affect us for decades to come.<br /><br />
In <i>Stay True</i>, Hua Hsu writes about an unlikely friendship he forged at Berkeley in the mid-1990s with his dorm-mate Ken. Hua, the son of first-generation Taiwanese immigrants, cultivated an identity as an outsider: he wore thrift-store clothes, avoided parties and drinking, and listened to little-known bands whose records he discovered during hours spent trolling through used record stores. "I saw coolness as a quality primarily expressed through erudite discernment, and I defined who I was by what I rejected," he writes; he viewed "a bad CD collection as evidence of moral weakness."<br /><br />
Ken's Japanese-American family had lived in the U.S. far longer, and he embraced mainstream culture without self-consciousness: he was "flagrantly handsome," wore Abercrombie & Fitch, belonged to a frat, had a blond girlfriend, and listened to the Dave Matthews Band. "The first time I met Ken, I hated him," Hua confesses. But, attracted despite himself by Ken's social ease, Hua begins to lower his guard, and over time their friendship blossoms. They develop their own rituals, codes, catchphrases, even a shared email sign-off: "Stay true."<br /><br />
<i>Stay True</i> is a meditation on the meaning of their friendship and Hua's deep grief and sense of guilt at its irretrievable loss. Ken seems to have had a special gift for friendship, and existed as the gravitational center of a whirling social galaxy. No diminishment of Hua's feelings is intended when I find myself wondering whether he had the same place in Ken's life as Ken did in his.<br /><br />
As a longtime Berkeley denizen I felt a special <i>frisson</i> whenever a student landmark like the South Side Top Dog or Tower Records was mentioned, and I may even have unknowingly encountered Hua in the 1990s while browsing record bins or used-book shelves on Telegraph Avenue. And I had many moments of rueful recognition at Hua's account of using his "erudite discernment" and alienation as means of keeping emotional distance from all but a select few—but also at his discovery of the way that, on the cusp of adulthood, we can so quickly form profound, life-altering connections. Ultimately, though, those transformative experiences are both universal and incommensurable. It was difficult not to agree with Hua when he concludes, "you simply had to be there."</td>
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<td style="padding: 15px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>Venetia Murray: <i>An Elegant Madness: High Society in Regency England</i></b> (Viking, 1999)<br /><br />
In my <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/01/elegant-madness-regency-england.html" target="_blank"><b>full-length review</b></a>, I wrote that Murray's book "could be subtitled 'Aristocrats Behaving Badly.' The upper classes of late 18th- and early 19th-century Britain ate and drank to prodigious excess, took drugs (snuff and laudanum), wore revealing clothes (tight pants and diaphanous gowns), spent outrageous sums pursuing the latest fashions, loved parties and disreputable pastimes (such as opera and theater, particularly if the actresses playing male 'breeches roles' wore tights that revealed their shapely legs), slept around, and were stupendous snobs. With material like this, Murray's <i>An Elegant Madness</i> is nothing if not diverting."<br /><br />
However, I also wrote that "Murray is an entertaining writer, but not a careful one." There are occasional misstatements, as well as odd pronouncements such as "Gambling and politics were yet to be condemned as mutually exclusive occupations" (when did that happen?) or "living in debt was not only normal, but somehow rather chic. . .This attitude to money, so alien to the twentieth century, needs to be seen in the context of its time" (an attitude alien to a twentieth century that saw median U.S. household debt exceed $50,000?). Perhaps these are just examples of dry humor; if so, it's perhaps revealing of both Murray and this reader that it was impossible to tell.<br /><br />
My post concluded,<br /><br />
<div style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>An Elegant Madness</i> does not offer in-depth discussions of Regency politics, economics, fashion, arts, food, or sex. But despite its limitations, it is enjoyable, not least for its black-and-white reproductions of caricatures by Gillray, Rowlandson, Cruikshank and others. I recommend reading it as background to the novels of the period, or for entertainment. After all, we're not the ones the upper classes of England forced off the land, threw out of work, maimed or killed in their factories and wars, and left to starve. The passage of time provides a safe buffer for our amusement.</div></td></tr>
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<td style="padding: 15px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top;"><b>David Grann: <i>The</i> Wager<i>: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny, and Murder</i></b> (Doubleday, 2023)<br /><br />
As I wrote in my <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/08/shipwreck-mutiny-and-murder-wager.html" target="_blank"><b>full-length review</b></a>, navigation during the Age of Sail was an approximate, error-prone, and perilous business. So it proved for the crew of <i>HMS Wager</i>, which was separated from its fleet and shipwrecked off the western coast of South America during the 18th-century British trade dispute with Spain known as "The War of Jenkins' Ear." What follows is a gripping narrative of almost unfathomable endurance, fortitude and skill, but also of poor judgment, pointless conflict, needless violence and deliberate cruelty.<br /><br />
Grann is an engaging writer with a compelling story to tell, but he is not above reporting both direct speech and the unvoiced thoughts of his subjects (both, of course, his own surmises or inventions). He also has trouble keeping track of exactly how many men have survived at each point, a failing I found more distracting than it probably warranted.<br /><br />
<i>The Wager</i> has a fascinating coda, though. One of the few survivors of the shipwreck was a teenaged midshipman. Amazingly, after this shattering experience he went back to sea, this time as a captain of his own ship, and ultimately rose to the rank of Vice Admiral. His name was John Byron; one of his children was the profligate "Mad Jack" Byron, who became the father of both Augusta Byron and of her half-brother and lover George Gordon Byron, the famous poet. In Canto II of his narrative poem <i>Don Juan</i>, Byron drew on his grandfather's experiences to heighten the realism of a shipwreck scene involving his anti-hero. Thus history repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, and the second as satire.</td>
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<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-39202700363339120272023-12-14T19:10:00.000-08:002023-12-23T21:29:13.527-08:00Favorites of 2023: Books - Our year of Agatha Christie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtRf6t3HJ6Bx2jEKaAwGImIuQVU2xQPDQqsoOaQJ5E9Vjf2k9TH0_tcNl0nOrN6z23BTThuTQ4Y-Cn4sD-yKLQlIgVmT07BOidUcZowqyAbUXlrbNbP5ZddTt17BwEJFGrJ-sGpsNb8RfVBGRhkFKYceI5lD3T6nZcYnGP_1n3Ap-BnFfrVse9cXP1/s720/agatha-christie-worsley_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of the first US edition of Agatha Christie by Lucy Worsley" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtRf6t3HJ6Bx2jEKaAwGImIuQVU2xQPDQqsoOaQJ5E9Vjf2k9TH0_tcNl0nOrN6z23BTThuTQ4Y-Cn4sD-yKLQlIgVmT07BOidUcZowqyAbUXlrbNbP5ZddTt17BwEJFGrJ-sGpsNb8RfVBGRhkFKYceI5lD3T6nZcYnGP_1n3Ap-BnFfrVse9cXP1/s16000/agatha-christie-worsley_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.net/books/Agatha-Christie/Lucy-Worsley/9781639362523" target="_blank">Simon & Schuster</a></p>
<p>For my partner's birthday last year I bought her Lucy Worsley's biography of Agatha Christie (Pegasus Crime, 2022)—more because of the biography's author (delightful star of multiple BBC history shows) than its subject. Of course, I knew Agatha Christie as the most popular British author since Shakespeare (sales of over a billion books in English alone, and another billion or so in translation), and also the writer of the longest-running play in London theatre history, <i>The Mousetrap</i> (1952 and counting; when we were in London this spring we saw performance number 29,146).</p>
<p>And, of course, like (almost) everyone I had read a few of Agatha Christie's mysteries when I was a teenager: <i>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</i> (1926), recommended to me by my mother and still my favorite of Christie's novels (in 2013 it was named by the British Crime Writers' Association as the best crime novel ever written); her first novel, <i>The Mysterious Affair at Styles</i> (1920), which introduces a Belgian detective named Hercule Poirot; <i>And Then There Were None</i> (to give it its U.S. title, 1939), in which a group of weekend guests invited to a remote island estate are murdered one by one; and the short story "The Witness for the Prosecution" (1925), later adapted by Christie into a play that became the basis of writer-director Billy Wilder's 1957 movie. [1]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45leKByUFBVFvb0g-4jSeiFJ4tv-nY7ThN1MySU-sTWhUCTjCn5MPvBn7FYWOItu5ZM0HqUODUy5NbgdfT34YD_mjiNSMcwjRQsBE5w1v9PFvu-tiL_VuhWBZRIhhNWw6kFEbFZjimyGKHp_RyDQzSoYzSka2MMI3-tDfnoyA1fmOy04bhWlCsa_M/s708/murder-of-roger-ackroyd_1926_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of the first UK edition of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd" border="0" data-original-height="708" data-original-width="480" height="708" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45leKByUFBVFvb0g-4jSeiFJ4tv-nY7ThN1MySU-sTWhUCTjCn5MPvBn7FYWOItu5ZM0HqUODUy5NbgdfT34YD_mjiNSMcwjRQsBE5w1v9PFvu-tiL_VuhWBZRIhhNWw6kFEbFZjimyGKHp_RyDQzSoYzSka2MMI3-tDfnoyA1fmOy04bhWlCsa_M/s16000/murder-of-roger-ackroyd_1926_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover illustration by Ellen Edwards of the first UK edition of <i>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</i>. Image source: <a href="https://elblogdelablo.wordpress.com/2013/11/11/los-mejores-de-la-novela-negra/" target="_blank">El Blog de la BLO</a></p>
<p>Inspired by Worsley's biography, and after reading <i>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</i> at <i>my</i> recommendation, my partner embarked on a quest to read, in order of publication, all 33 novels and 51 short stories in which Hercule Poirot appears. And after a brief and pointless struggle with myself—I had last read a Christie novel many years ago, and I wondered whether I would find enjoyment in them so many years later—I began reading them along with her. Together with our trip to London, during which we saw both <i>The Mousetrap</i> and <i>Witness for the Prosecution</i>, this reading project turned 2023 into our year of Agatha Christie.<br /></p>
<p>My (quickly overcome) hesitations about Christie's novels were based on my preference, which you may already have discerned in this blog, for lengthy 18th- and 19th-century novels filled with memorable characters and their richly detailed interior lives. Critic John Lanchester points out that Christie's novels operate quite differently; her prose can resemble Hemingway's in its spareness and efficiency.</p>
<p>Edmund Wilson wrote of Christie's novels in his essay "Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?":</p>
<blockquote><p>. . .you cannot become interested in the characters, because they never can be allowed an existence of their own even in a flat two dimensions but have always to be contrived so that they can seem either reliable or sinister, depending on which quarter, at the moment, is to be baited for the reader's suspicion. . .she has to provide herself with puppets who will be good for three stages of suspense: you must first wonder who is going to be murdered, you must then wonder who is committing the murders, and you must finally be unable to foresee which of two men the heroine will marry. [2]</p></blockquote>
<p>This is unfair. Christie was a keen observer, and could limn a character's essential attributes in a few lines. However, it is true that the most fully realized character in the Poirot novels is, of course, Poirot himself. Over the course of thirty-odd novels the "odd little man" with the egg-shaped head, the well-tended moustaches, the "green flash" in his eyes when he spots a clue, the impeccably-tailored suits and ever-present patent leather shoes becomes more than a collection of vivid idiosyncrasies and develops into a rather endearing presence. </p><p>Christie herself came to regret creating Poirot, or rather, inspiring an insatiable desire in readers for new mysteries featuring him. In the novel <i>Third Girl</i> (1966), the mystery writer Ariadne Oliver (who is both a comic figure and an occasional stand-in for Christie herself) bewails a similar success with her fictional Finnish detective: "'. . .people say things to me—you know—how much they like my books. . .And they say how much they love my awful detective Sven Hjerson. If they knew how <i>I</i> hated him! But my publisher always says I'm not to say so.'" The person to whom she directs these complaints is none other than Poirot himself. [3]</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37oIKUXzJFJNfCKLLr1ElskHA6MLxQjaeyAJY6iNBCmUPBFqgjtKmocHg1PQ1FFkmeyaBayCj34iwVEfa_jUtFsHF5hiXkd3hTDceu05Eh9nz42jPTU5R0XWBJZXoqCOMr4-48aYTGY1mRoxvBUwDKS_ALsWy9TXSOGcQOkx7qjDjf37P6rd9YEKZ/s751/third_girl_1967_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of the first US edition of Third Girl" border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="480" height="751" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37oIKUXzJFJNfCKLLr1ElskHA6MLxQjaeyAJY6iNBCmUPBFqgjtKmocHg1PQ1FFkmeyaBayCj34iwVEfa_jUtFsHF5hiXkd3hTDceu05Eh9nz42jPTU5R0XWBJZXoqCOMr4-48aYTGY1mRoxvBUwDKS_ALsWy9TXSOGcQOkx7qjDjf37P6rd9YEKZ/s16000/third_girl_1967_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.abebooks.com/Third-Girl---Hercule-Poirot-Mystery-Novel/30932546373/bd" target="_blank">AbeBooks</a><br /></p>
<p>There are a few other irregularly recurring characters in the Poirot novels, of which the most significant is Poirot's Watson-like companion and narrator, Captain Hastings, who appears in eight novels (Ariadne Oliver appears in six). It's true that Christie's characters can sometimes fall into types. Her books are peopled with ingénues who—especially when they are pretty, auburn-haired, and catch Hastings' eye—are sometimes not as innocent as they seem; older women, who are often unpleasant and not infrequently the murder victim; and actors and actresses who are always vain, never trustworthy, and frequently mixed up in the murder. (Christie, who adapted her own work for the theatre as early as 1930, must have had some disillusioning offstage experiences.)</p>
<p>But it has been argued, by Lanchester for one, that Christie did not focus her energies on creating memorable characters (her detective and a few others excepted), but instead on the mystery genre's formal challenges. Christie displays almost unflagging ingenuity in handling a set of self-imposed rules that are as constraining as those of any <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oulipo" target="_blank">Oulipian novel</a>. Indeed, much of the pleasure of reading Christie is seeing how she will take familiar mystery-novel elements (some of which she herself originated) and give them an unexpected twist. </p>
<p>A typical Poirot mystery takes place in a tightly bounded space among a small group of people, most of whom will turn out to have both a motive and the opportunity to murder the victim. In <i>The Mysterious Affair at Styles</i>, the space is a country manor, a setting that will reappear in different guises in (to name a few) <i>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</i>, <i>The Peril at End House</i> (1932), <i>Three Act Tragedy</i> (1935), <i>Dumb Witness</i> (1937), <i>The Hollow</i> (1946), and <i>Dead Man's Folly</i> (1956). In <i>Evil Under the Sun</i> (1941), the murders take place among an isolated group of people on an island. In <i>Cat Among the Pigeons</i> (1959), a murder takes place at a girls' boarding school; in <i>Hickory Dickory Dock</i> (1955), in a student boarding house. As the titles suggest, <i>The Mystery of the Blue Train</i> (1928) and <i>Murder on the Orient Express</i> (1934) take place onboard trains; <i>Death in the Clouds</i> (1935) on a passenger plane in flight; and <i>Death on the Nile</i> (1937) on a riverboat in transit. In <i>Murder in Mesopotamia</i> (1936) and <i>Appointment with Death</i> (1938), the murders occur on archaeological digs; Christie met her second husband, Max Mallowan, on a dig in Iraq and accompanied him on later expeditions.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjushBCZekKfLBwRVkZM7czq_sk-j22V4Vut5_jjV2mr6HeJ35CvV4K1rFri0nwZeF-uNnjZIdsUVzPCt_3PJOxI8gtgrv6viX_FWQbdpQNO7YhizY87CGalvtv7VQTb0-3A5T4huCl-4fEwV71PzRhmq-c4zcAnnJvH5Mci_reRzYA_zUu2DFKfDhE/s710/Murder_on_the_Orient_Express_1934.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="480" height="710" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjushBCZekKfLBwRVkZM7czq_sk-j22V4Vut5_jjV2mr6HeJ35CvV4K1rFri0nwZeF-uNnjZIdsUVzPCt_3PJOxI8gtgrv6viX_FWQbdpQNO7YhizY87CGalvtv7VQTb0-3A5T4huCl-4fEwV71PzRhmq-c4zcAnnJvH5Mci_reRzYA_zUu2DFKfDhE/s16000/Murder_on_the_Orient_Express_1934.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://paperbackpalette.blogspot.com/2019/06/the-cover-art-of-agatha-christies.html" target="_blank">The Paperback Palette</a></p>
<p>The victims are eclectic, but their deaths (at least those of the primary targets) are rarely crimes of impulse: they are meticulously planned by the killers, even if they don't reckon with the "little grey cells" of Poirot. Christie's favorite murder weapon is poison—as a young woman she had volunteered as a nurse in WWI and had learned about them during her work in a dispensary—but sometimes cruder methods are used: knives, guns, bludgeoning, strangulation, a strategic shove from a high place. As Lanchester writes,</p>
<blockquote>Christie’s great talent for fictional murder is to do with her understanding of, and complete belief in, human malignity. She knew that people could hate each other, and act on their hate. Her plots are complicated, designedly so, and the backstories and red herrings involved are often ornate, but in the end, the reason one person murders another in her work comes down to avarice and/or hate. [4]</blockquote>
<p>There are many clues, only some of which are significant, and victims who are not always what they seem. Suicides are made to look like murders, murders like suicides, identities are concealed, and alibis are not as solid as they first appear. It's like a puzzle or a game, and she ensures that you can almost never guess the outcome before Poirot gathers all the suspects into another bounded space (generally a parlor) to review the case and name the murderer.</p>
<p>In her New Yorker article "Queen of Crime," Joan Acoccella itemizes the strategies Christie uses to keep us guessing. Among them are the red herring (a clue that seems significant but which, after reading a few Christie novels, we learn is too obvious to actually be important), the double bluff (where a clue that seems to be a red herring turns out to point to the real murderer), and the triple bluff (where a clue that seems at first to be a red herring, then to point to the real murderer, turns out to be a red herring after all).</p>
<p>But in many of Christie's mysteries, the identity of the killer is unguessable. As Acoccella notes,</p>
<blockquote>. . .in truth, the guessing that we are asked to do is almost fruitless, because the solution to the mystery typically involves a fantastic amount of background material that we're not privy to until the end of the book, when the detective shares it with us. Christie's novels crawl with impostors. . .The investigator digs up this material but doesn't tell anyone till the end. [5]</blockquote>
<p>I wouldn't say that such solutions are necessarily typical, but they (or other solutions that rely on information that Poirot only reveals at the last moment) are rather frequent. This would seem to be a violation of the <a href="https://www.openculture.com/2016/02/20-rules-for-writing-detective-stories.html" target="_blank">first rule of detective stories</a>, at least as formulated by mystery writer S.S. Van Dine, which is that the reader should be supplied with all the clues necessary to solve the murder along with the detective. Poirot's ratiocinations in <i>Murder On the Orient Express</i> so infuriated Raymond Chandler that he snarled, "Only a halfwit could guess it." [6]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_r3UnVUsGBvmVvDbx5nb1BXmXgZoK1yB9mXzxugnrU-k2FucYJaR-gXqd6Y6khtL7Bk-Ud4ZsIiYALiMLq5ZTNkBRgwYyeq7WWRSrkSSCs_L8dq2PgJX99O0PzNENnf1LL-I_iWEOeTUv3OS-4Dq_osSgVmDgwaqS7Ssdoy2GR547GglNbm_ukbmz/s805/Murder_in_the_Calais_Coach.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="805" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_r3UnVUsGBvmVvDbx5nb1BXmXgZoK1yB9mXzxugnrU-k2FucYJaR-gXqd6Y6khtL7Bk-Ud4ZsIiYALiMLq5ZTNkBRgwYyeq7WWRSrkSSCs_L8dq2PgJX99O0PzNENnf1LL-I_iWEOeTUv3OS-4Dq_osSgVmDgwaqS7Ssdoy2GR547GglNbm_ukbmz/s16000/Murder_in_the_Calais_Coach.jpeg" width="429" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"Plan of the Calais Coach" from <i>Murder on the Calais Coach</i> [<i>Murder on the Orient Express</i>], Pocket Books, 1965. Image source: <a href="https://paperbackpalette.blogspot.com/2019/06/the-cover-art-of-agatha-christies.html" target="_blank">The Paperback Palette</a></p>
<p>But Christie's plots are often so intriguing and unexpected that their very intricacy and unlikelihood becomes a source of pleasure. When they fail, which is not often, they can seem overly contrived (I would nominate <i>Death in the Clouds</i> in that category, although it's intriguing as a mystery set in a plane at the dawn of commercial aviation). When they succeed, which is most of the time, they delight us in spite of their "unfairness." And every so often Christie provides just enough information to enable us to solve the mystery, if only we were alert and clever enough. We aren't.</p>
<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">A word about spoilers: since the unexpected twist is such a major part of the pleasure of Christie's mysteries, if you're planning to read her I recommend trying to avoid too much knowledge about her plots. Unfortunately, many articles and TV programs can't resist showing how ingenious she was by revealing the intricacies of her murder plots. Culprits include her Wikipedia pages; Joan Acoccella's, John Lanchester's, and Edmund Wilson's essays quoted in this post; and even Lucy Worsley's three-hour BBC TV series on Agatha Christie's life and work being broadcast on P.B.S. right now. These revelations are damaging to the enjoyment of all of her books, but particularly <i>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</i>. I recommend approaching her work, as it were, without a clue.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Quoted in Lanchester, "The Case of Agatha Christie."<i> London Review of Books</i>, Vol. 40 No. 24, 20 December 2018. <a href="https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v40/n24/john-lanchester/the-case-of-agatha-christie" target="_blank">https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v40/n24/john-lanchester/the-case-of-agatha-christie</a> (warning: this link is included for scholarly completeness, but it leads to spoilers)</li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Agatha Christie, <i>Third Girl</i>, HarperCollins, 1967, pp. 15-16. In another novel (<i>Hickory Dickory Dock</i>?), Ariadne Oliver fantasizes about appearing as a character in one of her own novels and killing off her detective.<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Quoted in Lanchester, "The Case of Agatha Christie." I would add another primal emotion, fear, to Lanchester's list of motives.<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Joan Acoccella, "Queen of Crime: How Agatha Christie created the modern murder mystery," <i>The New Yorker</i>, 16 & 23 August 2010. <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/08/16/queen-of-crime">https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/08/16/queen-of-crime</a> <a href="https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v40/n24/john-lanchester/the-case-of-agatha-christie" target="_blank"></a> (warning: this link is included for scholarly completeness, but it leads to spoilers)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Raymond Chandler, "The Simple Art of Murder," in Howard Haycraft, ed., <i>The Art of the Mystery Story</i>, Simon and Schuster, 1946. <a href="http://www.en.utexas.edu/amlit/amlitprivate/scans/chandlerart.html">http://www.en.utexas.edu/amlit/amlitprivate/scans/chandlerart.html</a> (warning: this link is included for scholarly completeness, but it leads to spoilers). In this essay Chandler calls S.S. Van Dine's detective Philo Vance "probably the most asinine character in detective fiction."</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-63494443735534743652023-12-03T11:11:00.000-08:002024-01-03T07:58:04.315-08:00Favorites of 2023: Movies and television<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMT3tNW9MSRg1IKrzdYX-6jMcik6-3WzmvkoyCPUyNGxB5qHRFzCJONylfxcG6ZBdCBqSa1auOkat94pXzsqvG_vhCM4WIHbFSFrK-DN6AxmC-4ur5kDvyBlGItMoTIV-fHSKK_9-FRuR67KjJ0s5xfjyvy9LEr2pEbfm8L-uwKsmnCDE_2Zi0g1e/s600/England-is-Mine_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMT3tNW9MSRg1IKrzdYX-6jMcik6-3WzmvkoyCPUyNGxB5qHRFzCJONylfxcG6ZBdCBqSa1auOkat94pXzsqvG_vhCM4WIHbFSFrK-DN6AxmC-4ur5kDvyBlGItMoTIV-fHSKK_9-FRuR67KjJ0s5xfjyvy9LEr2pEbfm8L-uwKsmnCDE_2Zi0g1e/s16000/England-is-Mine_600.jpg" width="600" height="338" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Jack Lowden as Steven Morrissey in <i>England is Mine</i> (2017). Image source: <a href="https://www.rockandpop.cl/2017/06/mira-trailer-england-is-mine-la-pelicula-biografica-no-autorizada-morrissey/" target="_blank">rockandpop.cl</a></p>
<p>In the last Favorites of 2023 post I discussed the films we watched in <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank">our year of Alec Guinness</a></b>. We did watch a few movies and TV shows last year that for some reason didn't feature Guinness, and of those first seen in 2023, a few stood out as particular favorites:</p>
<p><b>Drive My Car</b> (2021), starring Hidetoshi Nishijima, Reika Kirishima, Masaki Okada, and Toko Miura; based on the short stories "Drive My Car" and "Scherezade" by Haruki Murakami; written and directed by Ryusuke Hamaguchi.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD4wvlMJEvs-VsfMmecn5Ki3kurcUwenOEvZuWk13903HYFzmeB-05dl-Le97bQYrC3ldp_Sk72RhwpCFKGkcfT6s-Gs5W4wFIlyBuLTSQ135-0AUwq5GexQ68dqCRUkbBjOXu-GJMHCpcSPm4TdReOER5IQ2XDavtykkm6QyM5cjYsRUw6TypW2h/s600/DriveMyCar-600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD4wvlMJEvs-VsfMmecn5Ki3kurcUwenOEvZuWk13903HYFzmeB-05dl-Le97bQYrC3ldp_Sk72RhwpCFKGkcfT6s-Gs5W4wFIlyBuLTSQ135-0AUwq5GexQ68dqCRUkbBjOXu-GJMHCpcSPm4TdReOER5IQ2XDavtykkm6QyM5cjYsRUw6TypW2h/s16000/DriveMyCar-600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Yusuke (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and his driver Misaki (Toko Miura) in <i>Drive My Car</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.uk.emb-japan.go.jp/JAPANUKEvent/event/2022/202201/05-JS-DriveMyCar.html" target="_blank">Japan Society Film Club</a></p>
<p>Apart from one misjudged scene added by writer-director Hamaguchi, this quiet and visually striking adaptation of two Haruki Murakami short stories enriches its source material. A meditation on loss, grief, storytelling, performance, and the bonds that—welcome or not—connect us with one another, <i>Drive My Car</i> was one of the most memorable films we watched this year. For my full-length post please see <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank">Haruki Murakami part 5: Drive My Car</a></b>.</p>
<p><b>England is Mine</b> (2017), starring Jack Lowden (Steven Morrissey), Jessica Brown Findlay (Linder Sterling), Adam Lawrence (Billy Duffy), and Laurie Kynaston (Johnny Marr); written by Mark Gill and William Thacker; directed by Mark Gill.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRX03IGD4dg9Rz_1QM1B1X9V1o7IuYbjsr1XBn_IJMqASvsC81wU-Nlv92d_Z4ajN2DmJxKK5_Xg9PX-ZtQRXjejH8FIhv6SdaWqVBo8gTWyO8MzlmjPDcDD2CYR1Toa0TjPb_5XYwejAZJ39ogefLAfN6oZODlfQoxudwaf-UtfHxJLCJ59jLrb_S/s720/england-is-mine_DVD_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="England Is Mine DVD cover" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRX03IGD4dg9Rz_1QM1B1X9V1o7IuYbjsr1XBn_IJMqASvsC81wU-Nlv92d_Z4ajN2DmJxKK5_Xg9PX-ZtQRXjejH8FIhv6SdaWqVBo8gTWyO8MzlmjPDcDD2CYR1Toa0TjPb_5XYwejAZJ39ogefLAfN6oZODlfQoxudwaf-UtfHxJLCJ59jLrb_S/s16000/england-is-mine_DVD_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.themoviedb.org/movie/428886-england-is-mine/images/posters" target="_blank">themoviedb.org</a></p>
<p>A warning: this movie won't be for everyone. Any ordinary person will wonder why they are spending the length of a feature film with a teenager who tries to mask his crippling shyness with aloofness, disdain and arrogance; whose fear of disappointment prevents him from taking emotional risks or exposing himself to ridicule; and who constructs an insular world defined by his highly specific tastes. These include pop music (David Bowie, Roxy Music, New York Dolls, Patti Smith, Sparks, early 60s pop, girl groups and Motown, French chanteuses such as Françoise Hardy and Juliette Greco), movie stars (James Dean, Alain Delon, Jean Marais), and eclectic (and sometimes lurid) reading.</p>
<p>The movie is subtitled "On Becoming Morrissey," and as you may have already guessed, that awkward, introverted Manchester teenager went on to become the lead singer and lyricist of The Smiths. As I wrote of Morrissey's <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2014/12/favorites-of-2014-books.html#morrissey" target="_blank">Autobiography</a></b></i> (2013):</p>
<blockquote><p>In the first half of <i>Autobiography</i>, Morrissey writes compellingly of his youthful feelings of loneliness and desperation, his struggles to escape the dead-end future planned for him by a routinized and soul-crushing school system, and his conviction that there must be a way to stop being an observer, a fan, and take an active part in the world of pop music that was his lifeline: "I am suddenly full of sweeping ideas that even I can barely grasp, and although penniless, I am choked by the belief that something must happen. It is not enough just to 'be'. . . .I cannot continue as a member of the audience. If only I could forget myself I might achieve." (p. 116)</p></blockquote>
<p>The dingy palette of hazy browns and dull greens chosen by Gill and cinematographer Nicholas D. Knowland to depict 1970s Manchester is the objective correlative of a mood of hopelessness and despair resulting from the city's slow-motion economic collapse. Colors drained of vibrancy are as effective as the black-and-white images of another excellent film set in 1970s Manchester, Anton Corbijn's <i>Control</i>, in representing the bleak post-industrial cityscape. <br /></p>
<p>Steven meets a kindred spirit, the brash art student Linder (Jessica Brown Findlay).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnko9Mnt2wfZBSBUngzgAqnpa6gei6xNzl9TePyHNQ6X8khctyLDdiDpo_AR4gVteVukmN_QiYTDNzDm3RZ4fL8lskDh2egBPyNjHlFcCzKQM66uCN-aFbU-GJu3J2DIx8jQH8ra6zB6Mn4edQ2gPauDgV6Kw0vdHdw40Tm78GKMHlJ2qMFCiLkodV/s650/linder_SheShe_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="480" height="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnko9Mnt2wfZBSBUngzgAqnpa6gei6xNzl9TePyHNQ6X8khctyLDdiDpo_AR4gVteVukmN_QiYTDNzDm3RZ4fL8lskDh2egBPyNjHlFcCzKQM66uCN-aFbU-GJu3J2DIx8jQH8ra6zB6Mn4edQ2gPauDgV6Kw0vdHdw40Tm78GKMHlJ2qMFCiLkodV/s16000/linder_SheShe_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">From <i><a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/linder-she-she-p79743" target="_blank">SheShe</a></i>, a series of photographs of Linder Sterling by Christina Birrer with words by Linder, 1981. Photo credit: <a href="https://www.christinabirrer.org/work/birrer-linder-sterling-collaborations" target="_blank">Christina Birrer</a>. Image source: <a href="https://www.anothermanmag.com/life-culture/9971/morrissey-the-women-who-inspired-the-music-icon">anothermanmag.com</a></p>
<p>It's Linder's drive and determination that finally galvanize Steven to risk failure by meeting up with the guitarist Billy (Adam Lawrence), whose notice seeking musical collaborators he'd spotted in a record store. One of the first songs they write together is entitled "I Think I'm Ready for the Electric Chair."</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-LcsF1PDwVANTWj4IfyBxndu-Cz8NgEfhEYCI20QXVESNvhTNgncGY8rfMPrOkwjA6VKv6JSzptk0GvsLYP5Kp-TAslaZwD1cowJPI7-kEPqn9KinmTzoNfP7AAqGTcOYANV-36ECmNYIa4no5I4ojXqiiCsBMGzKRKUjKpkCaA1PEETPbTyr_QF/s666/billy_duffy_Lonesome-No-More_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="480" height="666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-LcsF1PDwVANTWj4IfyBxndu-Cz8NgEfhEYCI20QXVESNvhTNgncGY8rfMPrOkwjA6VKv6JSzptk0GvsLYP5Kp-TAslaZwD1cowJPI7-kEPqn9KinmTzoNfP7AAqGTcOYANV-36ECmNYIa4no5I4ojXqiiCsBMGzKRKUjKpkCaA1PEETPbTyr_QF/s16000/billy_duffy_Lonesome-No-More_480.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Billy Duffy ca. 1980. Image source: <a href="https://www.billyduffy.com/memorabilia/before-the-cult/my-first-real-les-paul/">billyduffy.com</a></p>
<p>Like Sam Riley's portrayal of Joy Division's lead singer and lyricist Ian Curtis in <i>Control</i>, Jack Lowden in <i>England is Mine</i> inhabits, rather than impersonates, his real-life character to an uncanny degree. From <i>England is Mine</i>, Steven's onstage debut with Billy and The Nosebleeds on 15 April 1978, doing a cover of the Shangri-Las' "Give Him A Great Big Kiss" (and unlike his heroes the New York Dolls, Steven doesn't change the gender of the singer's crush). <br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/2Lh9_QeSi4U?si=fuAblO9M0Oh-zzqg" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Lh9_QeSi4U" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Lh9_QeSi4U</a></p>
<p>And here's <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUqarTXNLX0" target="_blank">the Shangri-Las original</a>.</p>
<p>But when Billy leaves The Nosebleeds to join another band and Linder departs for London, Steven is left bereft and directionless—until Johnny (Laurie Kynaston), a guitarist friend of Billy's looking for a singer, knocks on his front door. It's no spoiler to say that we know how this story will continue. As I wrote about <i>Autobiography</i>, the music of The Smiths "gave expression to certain inchoate feelings of loss, regret, and lack
of direction in my post-collegiate 20s. Johnny Marr's crystalline guitar
was the perfect accompaniment to Morrissey's arch, funny, and bitterly
true lyrics." The album <i>Hatful of Hollow</i> remains on my record shelf, despite what Morrissey has become.</p>
<p>If you're curious, a home recording was made in 1982 of Morrissey and Marr performing The Cookies' "I Want A Boy For My Birthday." They gave the tape to their first bass player, Dale Hibbert, so he could learn the song. He has posted it to YouTube, and it's brief sample of what their first musical collaborations sounded like:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/IXEGSRzR1iI?si=w-5p05c1s9GJeivU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXEGSRzR1iI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXEGSRzR1iI</a></p>
<p>And here is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQDvDJmwjfI" target="_blank">The Cookies original</a>.</p>
<p>A reviewer for <i>The Guardian</i> called <i>England Is Mine</i> "<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/aug/02/england-is-mine-review-morrissey-biopic-the-smiths" target="_blank">generic</a>." It is anything but, being filled with references to Morrissey's formative discoveries in music and books, and with visuals and dialogue that point to his later use of the materials of his life in his lyrics. [1]</p><p>Other reviewers have unfairly complained that the movie soundtrack contains no Smiths songs, even though the entire film takes place before The Smiths are formed. The soundtrack is great; Morrissey's lyrics to The Smiths' song "Rubber Ring" mention "the songs that saved your life," and several of his favorites are featured. [2]</p>
<p>Fortunately there are also some more thoughtful critical engagements with <a href="https://www.bfi.org.uk/features/morrissey-the-smiths-british-cinema" target="_blank">this movie</a> and with <a href="https://www.anothermanmag.com/life-culture/9971/morrissey-the-women-who-inspired-the-music-icon" target="_blank">Morrissey</a> and The Smiths. Gill's film is obviously a labor of love and of close attention to telling details. It is not perfect, of course. Curiously, we don't see (or hear) Linder fronting her postpunk art-noise band <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMndHXgswBY" target="_blank">Ludus</a>, whose gigs Morrissey would surely have attended. We also don't see any of the other Manchester bands that were born around the same time: The Buzzcocks (a Linder collage is on the cover of their "<a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/13278-Buzzcocks-Orgasm-Addict/image/SW1hZ2U6NjE5Mzk3" target="_blank">Orgasm Addict</a>" single), Magazine (she designed the cover of their first album <a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/43884-Magazine-Real-Life/image/SW1hZ2U6MzA1NzcyNDc=" target="_blank"><i>Real Life</i></a>), The Fall (though we do see a record-store poster), Joy Division, A Certain Ratio, and many others. </p><p>And apart from a single letter from Steven that gets printed in the <i>New Musical Express</i>, there's no hint of why the rock journalist and scenester Paul Morley would have called Morrissey "minor local legend Steven Morrison" [sic] in a 1978 NME review of one of his few appearances with The Nosebleeds. </p><p>It's also true that the film is not attempting to be a documentary, and is more concerned with evoking a state of mind than with strict verisimilitude. The film rearranges chronology, omits events (Morrissey published a book on the New York Dolls in 1981, a time when the film presents Steven as isolated, lost, and deeply sunk in depression), eliminates real people (Steve Pomfret, for example, who showed up on Morrissey's doorstep with Johnny Marr in 1982) and invents fictional characters. But the film's narrow focus heightens its intensity, and I thought that, one scene excepted, it was brilliantly conceived and executed. I can't guarantee that you'll feel the same way.</p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Documentary</b></h4>
<p><b>Moonage Daydream</b> (2022). Produced, written, edited and directed by Brett Morgen.</p>
<p>Speaking of labors of love and of close attention to detail, Brett Morgen's impressionistic montage of David Bowie's ever-changing image and music (as well as other artistic endeavors) is mesmerizing. Many pop stars would have tried to build an entire career around just one of Bowie's many musical personae. Bowie, as Keith Jarrett once said of Miles Davis, would rather risk producing bad music than repeat himself endlessly. Amazingly, he produced music worth hearing at virtually every stage of his life.</p>
<p>Morgen's two-hour documentary does not attempt to be comprehensive; to do so would require spanning more than 50 years of Bowie's music, art, and self-fashioning. But what he does include, primarily the period from "Space Oddity" (1969) through <i>Let's Dance</i> (1983), is compelling not only for its inherently interesting subject, but for the associative way that it is presented.</p>
<p>"Life on Mars?" from Bowie's album <i>Hunky Dory</i> (1971), filmed by Mick Rock in 1973:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/AZKcl4-tcuo?si=vDrXcl4oRSU936sp" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZKcl4-tcuo" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZKcl4-tcuo</a></p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Television</b></h4>
<p><b>Our Flag Means Death</b>, first season (2022). Starring Rhys Darby (Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate), Taika Waititi (Edward Teach/Blackbeard), Con O'Neill (Izzy Hands, Blackbeard's first mate), Rory Kinnear (Royal Navy officers Captain Nigel Badminton and Admiral Chauncey Badminton), and many others. Created by David Jenkins. Produced by HBO Max.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOS6tQR1PKv_2rlEMkz51bpV0hKefOUGvnNK4D7pWc37HLgWac6R6laizIpIyodWaMBRAPk5gQJL8DNZ2bvhts-APoE2cpmSJSlLMjZOp68qfmTBamihZZV1bozj6cqAAziGaafaRlStRsTHF921HA-lhhgMV8XnqT1RMnoVO54ycBT4vhWcRUbqQr/s600/Our-Flag-Means-Death_stede_ed_nigel_600.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOS6tQR1PKv_2rlEMkz51bpV0hKefOUGvnNK4D7pWc37HLgWac6R6laizIpIyodWaMBRAPk5gQJL8DNZ2bvhts-APoE2cpmSJSlLMjZOp68qfmTBamihZZV1bozj6cqAAziGaafaRlStRsTHF921HA-lhhgMV8XnqT1RMnoVO54ycBT4vhWcRUbqQr/s16000/Our-Flag-Means-Death_stede_ed_nigel_600.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Rhys Darby (Stede Bonnet), Taika Waitiki (Blackbeard), and Rory Kinnear (Captain Nigel Badminton) in <i>Our Flag Means Death</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.markhamfroggattandirwin.com/2023/01/rory-kinnear-stars-in-our-flag-means-death/" target="_blank">Markham Froggatt & Irwin</a></p>
<p>A dear friend thought we would enjoy this series, and he couldn't have been more right. Of course, pirates (and their flamboyant outfits and square-rigged sailing ships that were floating socialist communities) have an inherent appeal. But that appeal is multiplied when the pirate captain is played by Rhys Darby. The role of the incompetent manager in <i>Flight of the Conchords</i> was clearly excellent preparation for playing the incompetent Gentleman Pirate Stede Bonnet.</p>
<p>In the show (and in history) Stede feels stifled by his life as a wealthy Barbados plantation owner and decides to become a pirate, even though he has no sailing experience. As you might guess, he encounters a steep learning curve, a skeptical crew of misfits, and near-disaster when the first ship they try to capture turns out to be a pirate-hunting Royal Navy man-of-war. More hairbreadth escapes and a meeting with the fearsome Blackbeard (the excellent Taika Waitiki) shortly follow. The two pirate captains decide to join forces; as they spend time together, each realizes that the other possesses qualities that they themselves lack, and a bond begins to form.</p>
<p><i>Our Flag Means Death</i> is unusually casual about same-sex affection and gender nonconformity (as, apparently, historical pirates could also be). It's also extremely funny. Season 2 has just been released, and will feature the appearance of the historical women pirates Zheng Yi Sao, Anne Bonny and Mary Read. We're looking forward to the further adventures of Stede, Blackbeard, and their crews. [3]</p>
<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">We see Steven with a book on the Moors Murders, for example; one of The Smith's earliest songs, "Suffer Little Children," was about the killings, and contains the line "Oh Manchester, so much to answer for." Also on Steven's bookshelf is the <i>Collected Works of Oscar Wilde</i>, a gift from his librarian mother; in "Cemetry Gates" (Morrissey's spelling) he sings "Keats and Yeats are on your side, but you lose. . .Wilde is on mine." A scene in <i>England is Mine</i> set at a fun fair recalls The Smiths' "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-mBSshJAvU" target="_blank">Rusholme Ruffians</a>," where fairs are depicted as places where sex and violence lurk: "A boy is stabbed and his money is grabbed / And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine. . .Then someone falls in love, then someone's beaten up / And the senses being dulled are mine." A more passionate fan of The Smiths than I am could probably find many other instances.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">The soundtrack sent me to YouTube to explore early 60s pop stars I'd either never heard of, or never (knowingly) heard: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4955wzneuc" target="_blank">The Cookies</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD_Ske1MyRg" target="_blank">Diana Dors</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjjCOaxyDzU" target="_blank">Vince Eager</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsPmJy5zSPs" target="_blank">Billy Fury</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4MzmmcDTcY" target="_blank">Johnny Tillotson</a>. I should have known The Cookies, though: they sang "Don't Say Nothin' Bad (About My Baby)," "Chains" (later covered by The Beatles), and backup on Little Eva's "The Loco-Motion."</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Irrelevant historical note: While Anne Bonny and Mary Read were active around the same time as Stede Bonnet and Blackbeard, Zheng Yi Sao lived almost a century later.</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-25053011154749852672023-11-29T06:30:00.000-08:002023-12-23T21:30:00.357-08:00Favorites of 2023: Movies - Our year of Alec Guinness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7bbfjq85Cs78kutt5UHmoC8JTf1SvdliKKCX7P0gf9Mu_5CJ5nRo1haynt0aAgWiL0Inp_8FhLlyLT3g81ZjJZZaPcf6TwNRkysmYzZus2cA0AamMac3farG8IzOOTkneC_bLFYWXxHcJ2vkPu2Likh1_duyMOSDWlzRQeb3xHujxkefMuJRApOJ/s616/alec_guinness_1960.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="600" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7bbfjq85Cs78kutt5UHmoC8JTf1SvdliKKCX7P0gf9Mu_5CJ5nRo1haynt0aAgWiL0Inp_8FhLlyLT3g81ZjJZZaPcf6TwNRkysmYzZus2cA0AamMac3farG8IzOOTkneC_bLFYWXxHcJ2vkPu2Likh1_duyMOSDWlzRQeb3xHujxkefMuJRApOJ/s16000/alec_guinness_1960.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Sir Alec Guinness, 1960. Photo credit: Derek Allen. Image source: National Portrait Gallery London <a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw16901/Sir-Alec-Guinness" target="_blank">NPG x45667</a></p>
<h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Movies: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></h4>
<p>Some famous movie actors achieved stardom by playing essentially the same character over and over again. As James Baldwin wrote, "No one, for example, will ever really know whether Katherine Hepburn or Bette Davis or Humphrey Bogart or Spencer Tracy or Clark Gable—or John Wayne—can, or could, really act, or not, nor does anyone care: acting is not what they are required to do. . .One does not go to see them act: one goes to watch them be. One does not go to see Humphrey Bogart, <i>as Sam Spade</i>: one goes to see Sam Spade, <i>as Humphrey Bogart</i>." [1]</p>
<p>Alec Guinness was a different kind of star. He became renowned for his protean quality, his ability to inhabit radically different characters. We had, of course, seen Guinness before in films ranging from <i>Dr. Zhivago</i> (1965) to <i>Star Wars</i> (1977). But what inspired our mini-Alec Guinness film festival this year was seeing him as Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli in <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/04/the-mudlark.html" target="_blank"><b>The Mudlark</b></a> (1950).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05npELTy5J1SlHzLPDyekGWwzNAv7LpnXNh_BZRpHadINPJq47x7xgbo2Uzp7cSl818fZZPSoD3T-LUeL_knIH7ioab0uCKiOBX-NxHKfy8m0HHuLW0dX4_QHs7NolEcBUSPGqmuYoZ4jltOsn4GXse5_polFKn1fRONMsV8PtBtn99f4vWVLlLhA/s600/mudlark_disraeli_victoria_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05npELTy5J1SlHzLPDyekGWwzNAv7LpnXNh_BZRpHadINPJq47x7xgbo2Uzp7cSl818fZZPSoD3T-LUeL_knIH7ioab0uCKiOBX-NxHKfy8m0HHuLW0dX4_QHs7NolEcBUSPGqmuYoZ4jltOsn4GXse5_polFKn1fRONMsV8PtBtn99f4vWVLlLhA/s16000/mudlark_disraeli_victoria_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alec Guinness (Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli) and Irene Dunne (Queen Victoria) in <i>The Mudlark</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.themoviedb.org/movie/126596-the-mudlark" target="_blank">themoviedb.org</a></p>
<p>Guinness's role as Disraeli involved the convincing portrayal of an often-photographed historical figure who would have been twice the actor's real age, and the recital of a 7-minute speech to Parliament in a single take. That performance made an indelible impression on us, and we soon sought out more of his films from the 1940s and 1950s.</p>
<p>Guinness got his start in films in writer-director David Lean's <b>Great Expectations</b> (1946). He was featured as Herbert Pocket, the man who, at the behest of an unknown benefactor of the orphan Pip (John Mills), teaches him how to dress and behave like a gentleman. [2]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREeBWtv-QWGESLjnv2BUBjabqWZCwTN0XOIFpHiIrIT70WBbvlSiriNi38uFNCeOkokbqG2PvggdHxu7HOb1L9hZ8kSfyBTGvnJo5H_5FRllBITU5lPdVPZKykq2rlT-dTxyusubcTO8FWxyRRotwfaN14ANs605D7rcllIGfD82_A-7_U7pWemk9/s595/alec-guinness-great-expectations_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREeBWtv-QWGESLjnv2BUBjabqWZCwTN0XOIFpHiIrIT70WBbvlSiriNi38uFNCeOkokbqG2PvggdHxu7HOb1L9hZ8kSfyBTGvnJo5H_5FRllBITU5lPdVPZKykq2rlT-dTxyusubcTO8FWxyRRotwfaN14ANs605D7rcllIGfD82_A-7_U7pWemk9/s16000/alec-guinness-great-expectations_480.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alec Guinness as Herbert Pocket in <i>Great Expectations</i>. Photo credit: Ealing Studios. Image source: <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/alec-guinness-at-100/2/" target="_blank">CBS News</a></p>
<p>Guinness was cast because he had played Pocket in his own stage adaptation of <i>Great Expectations</i>. Lean's film remains possibly the best screen adaptation of Dickens' novel. In the 1999 British Film Institute poll surveying <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/455170.stm" target="_blank">the greatest British films of all time</a>, it was ranked #5.</p>
<p>But Guinness's movie stardom was assured by a series of films made at Ealing Studios in the late 1940s and early 1950s. In these comedies, middle- and working-class characters challenge the established order of wealth and class, but discover in the end that it is not so easy to escape their stations, or their fates.</p>
<p>In the black comedy <b>Kind Hearts and Coronets</b> (1949) Guinness plays eight different roles: all the members of the upper-crust D'Ascoyne family, male and female, who stand in the way of Louis Mazzini (Denis Price), who is ninth in line for the Dukedom.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTOB_konYNd7wSfvvPVx_AcuD05_WDeNwP2DkaVkPz6szLsa32eToesox7FSt5xuUE55JIujvB9QIj1UrCtmYxJBjxL0SmdzyfyKuwFj0EryYbMg6ws01Zbm11SskEzy0R3QGKQqrYAxc1fW-P6DT4ZhpFYczKSBA_USu5kbhkOTnO4pld_wi6zHY/s600/alec_guinness_kind_hearts_coronets.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="600" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTOB_konYNd7wSfvvPVx_AcuD05_WDeNwP2DkaVkPz6szLsa32eToesox7FSt5xuUE55JIujvB9QIj1UrCtmYxJBjxL0SmdzyfyKuwFj0EryYbMg6ws01Zbm11SskEzy0R3QGKQqrYAxc1fW-P6DT4ZhpFYczKSBA_USu5kbhkOTnO4pld_wi6zHY/s16000/alec_guinness_kind_hearts_coronets.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alec Guinness as six members of the D'Ascoyne family in <i>Kind Hearts and Coronets</i>: From right to left, Guinness as The Parson, suffragette Lady Agatha, The General, The Admiral, and the 8th Duke; Valerie Hobson as the widow Edith D'Ascoyne; and Guinness as Lord D'Ascoyne, at the funeral of Young Henry D'Ascoyne, also played by Guinness. The Lord's son, Ascoyne D'Ascoyne, <i>also</i> played by Guinness, has already met his demise. Image source: National Portrait Gallery London <a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw16899/Kind-Hearts-and-Coronets-Sir-Alec-Guinness-as-members-of-the-DAscoyne-family-Valerie-Hobson-as-Edith" target="_blank">NPG x88518</a></p>
<p>Louis's mother was a D'Ascoyne but was disowned by her family when she married an operatic tenor. (How low can you sink?) Louis sees a perfect way to revenge himself against the snooty D'Ascoynes and reward himself by becoming the next duke. Only, it requires a bit of murder. Eight murders, in fact. What could possibly go wrong? In the 1999 BFI poll, <i>Kind Hearts and Coronets</i> was ranked #6.</p>
<p>In a thoroughgoing departure from the flamboyantly idiosyncratic members of the D'Ascoyne family, in <b>The Lavender Hill Mob</b> (1951) Guinness plays lowly bank clerk Henry Holland, who is so unassuming he's virtually invisible. [3]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YXOPJO3XwrtG8BOcmaOOhfdWxlZ1yaNHQ7dnEvK-WGp0nxERWGEgvdNyczan1iL0aO37HcuhXg9Dyb7XwLxbw1T0yc_zF4bCi0cXE_DvJtWs_6QvU9fCGPScvon-pidO9ojSBzHC1Seu6Br5MIFj-YwUDlJ3ZOKH8ZqeELPDJnAIS9I_pdF-C0vf/s600/lavender_hill_mob.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YXOPJO3XwrtG8BOcmaOOhfdWxlZ1yaNHQ7dnEvK-WGp0nxERWGEgvdNyczan1iL0aO37HcuhXg9Dyb7XwLxbw1T0yc_zF4bCi0cXE_DvJtWs_6QvU9fCGPScvon-pidO9ojSBzHC1Seu6Br5MIFj-YwUDlJ3ZOKH8ZqeELPDJnAIS9I_pdF-C0vf/s16000/lavender_hill_mob.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alec Guinness (Henry Holland) and Ronald Adam (bank manager Mr. Turner) in <i>The Lavender Hill Mob</i>.</p>
<p>Holland performs his task of safeguarding bullion transfers so well that after 20 years at the bank he has never been considered for a promotion. But being overlooked by his superiors fits neatly into a plan that Holland is perfecting: to steal a shipment of the gold he is supposed to protect. The masterstroke will be melting down the stolen bars and recasting them as Eiffel Tower souvenirs in the workshop of his partner-in-crime Alfred Pendlebury (Stanley Holloway), so that they can be smuggled to Paris without suspicion. What could possibly go wrong? In the BFI poll <i>The Lavender Hill Mob</i> was ranked #17; watch for a very brief appearance by the young Audrey Hepburn in one of her first film roles.<br /></p>
<p>The person who invented a fabric that was impervious to dirt and wear would be universally acclaimed, no? Well, no. In <b>The Man In The White Suit</b> (1951) Guinness plays inventor Sidney Stratton, who after many failed experiments and a few sizeable explosions manages to synthesize just such a miracle fiber. It has only three minor drawbacks: it glows faintly because it is slightly radioactive, it is so strong that it can only be cut by industrial machines, and it is so dirt-resistant that it can't be dyed. He has a blindingly white suit made to demonstrate his fiber's revolutionary qualities. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC4Q4ENMaqSugWQjF14uJ4JwLDtssaZOdiQnjFz3pftIDtgvYM30InX2xylNH5_r3_-npsC_2zZuNmPCKqifWvuw1AJcJ3i98BqudJKcE2S01Trby1KpN1o6Noo2ncG2IMH1AiDZ3oo2olWYiIFJqBCUeIuuiGhfGwM3flZQ9BEwCF7cdvacPx3HK/s600/man-in-the-white-suit_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="600" height="439" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC4Q4ENMaqSugWQjF14uJ4JwLDtssaZOdiQnjFz3pftIDtgvYM30InX2xylNH5_r3_-npsC_2zZuNmPCKqifWvuw1AJcJ3i98BqudJKcE2S01Trby1KpN1o6Noo2ncG2IMH1AiDZ3oo2olWYiIFJqBCUeIuuiGhfGwM3flZQ9BEwCF7cdvacPx3HK/s16000/man-in-the-white-suit_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alec Guinness as Sidney Stratton in <i>The Man in the White Suit</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.perisphere.org/2014/05/06/guinness-is-the-man-in-the-white-suit-tonight-at-the-trylon/" target="_blank">Perisphere: The Trylon Cinema's Blog</a></p>
<p>At first the mill owner (Cecil Parker) that Stratton works for is enthusiastic—until he realizes that if clothes never wear out no one will ever need new ones, and his sales will crash. The mill workers realize just as quickly that if the market crashes they will soon be out of jobs. The owners and the workers unite around the idea that Stratton's invention should be suppressed. They try everything from bribery to intimidation to seduction by the boss's daughter (Joan Greenwood), but Stratton refuses to give up the rights. In American movies the good guy gets the girl and wins out in the end. . .but of course, this is a film made in Britain in the grim aftermath of WWII. In the BFI poll <i>The Man In The White Suit</i> was ranked #58.</p>
<p>The final Ealing comedy we saw was the darkest of all. Like <i>The Lavender Hill Mob</i>, <b>The Ladykillers</b> (1955) is a heist movie. [4] Guinness, looking a bit like a more sinister Oscar Wilde, plays Professor Marcus, the mastermind of a plan for a daring daylight bank truck robbery. He moves into the boarding house of a slightly dotty elderly woman, Mrs. Wilberforce (Katie Johnson), thinking that she will be easily fooled, and assembles his gang: the Major (Cecil Parker); Louis, a menacing mobster (Herbert Lom); One-Round, a none-too-bright ex-boxer (Danny Green); and Harry, a Teddy Boy (the young Peter Sellers in his first major film role). The Professor tells Mrs. Wilberforce that the gang is a string quintet which will be rehearsing in his rooms.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RsHBC8zb1-9euhNoaUzM38ugBEEbNoFm7CdOPoDc0TaaiosuYUTsoKspPRCMou9SmO_makkD_l1nVKVPWga1WC-Yf_TsZRI5QfXeBR6mCMXegM7aFhlpx-XjA13cyK4DwQbe2EB_oRvFrXCr2GXvcb82DU-wO4LdZ2b-pHdB0zWEsiYxlMw5zZrW/s600/ladykillers_gang_600.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="600" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RsHBC8zb1-9euhNoaUzM38ugBEEbNoFm7CdOPoDc0TaaiosuYUTsoKspPRCMou9SmO_makkD_l1nVKVPWga1WC-Yf_TsZRI5QfXeBR6mCMXegM7aFhlpx-XjA13cyK4DwQbe2EB_oRvFrXCr2GXvcb82DU-wO4LdZ2b-pHdB0zWEsiYxlMw5zZrW/s16000/ladykillers_gang_600.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Left to right: Guinness (Professor Marcus), Danny Green (One-Round), Peter Sellers (Harry), Cecil Parker (the Major), and Herbert Lom (Louis) as an unlikely string quintet in <i>The Ladykillers</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/movies/story/2021-07-02/review-the-ladykillers-alec-guiness-peter-sellers" target="_blank">Los Angeles Times</a>.<br /></p>
<p>During their meetings they play gramophone records to mask the sound of their planning for the heist. Their scheme involves an unwitting Mrs. Wilberforce claiming a trunk (unknown to her, filled with cash) and having it delivered to the gang; who could draw less suspicion? But things take a bad turn when Mrs. Wilberforce discovers that the group is not a string quintet after all. They decide that to ensure her silence they'll have to bump her off. Five heavily armed men against one frail old lady; what could possibly go wrong? In the BFI poll <i>The Ladykillers</i> was ranked #13.</p>
<p>Apart from the pleasures of watching Alec Guinness in the multifarious roles that made him famous, we enjoyed seeing the streets of London in the early 1950s, before architects started competing to see who could design the most whimsical building to deface its skyline and before industrial sites became luxury condos. All of these Guinness films are recommended, and we would probably rank them in more-or-less the same order (if not necessarily in the same places) as they appear in the BFI poll.</p>
<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">James Baldwin, "The Devil Finds Work," in <i>The Price of the Ticket: Collected Nonfiction, 1948-1985</i>. St. Martin's Press, 1985, p. 575. <br /></li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In <i>Great Expectations</i>, Pip's education as a gentleman is directed and supported by an unknown benefactor. Guinness had been in a similar situation: his mother, Agnes Cuff, was unmarried, and Guinness's boarding-school education was paid for by a friend of his mother's. Guinness suspected that this friend was his biological father, but if so, it was never confirmed.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Lavender Hill is a street in what was once the working-class neighborhood of Battersea on the south bank of the Thames; Henry Holland and his partner in crime Alfred Pendlebury live in a run-down boarding house there. Today Battersea is filled with high-rise condos and a huge old power station that's been turned into an upscale shopping mall—with luxury condos, of course.<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Not to be confused with the 2004 Coen Brothers remake.</li>
</ol>
Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-55227006207119907242023-11-04T07:54:00.007-07:002023-12-23T21:31:41.334-08:00Favorites of 2023: Music<p>In my previous post I covered <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank">our year of French Baroque opera</a></b>. In this sequel I'll list my other favorite live, streamed, and recorded musical performances of the past 12 months, ordered chronologically.<b></b></p>
<p><b>Live performances</b></p>
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<td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUihxf6hkoimOXK6NL7xlJdh-EHan-CFW13u1cGSffkmY-j6HC4jEqcWHx_UJiye2kAE3QiFfUrQIFpvFjVWjGkYngC-2-HTKFjmWyim8wG_Scmaxt2vAfgJFRscMx00ysggB1r9oPBZu5Y0XTNY7u7iDMfU1DG-E4iBU7RESoRY8oOh74ee4J3xu/s1600/Liv-Redpath_4_400.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUihxf6hkoimOXK6NL7xlJdh-EHan-CFW13u1cGSffkmY-j6HC4jEqcWHx_UJiye2kAE3QiFfUrQIFpvFjVWjGkYngC-2-HTKFjmWyim8wG_Scmaxt2vAfgJFRscMx00ysggB1r9oPBZu5Y0XTNY7u7iDMfU1DG-E4iBU7RESoRY8oOh74ee4J3xu/s1600/Liv-Redpath_4_400.jpg" width="400" /></a></td>
<td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Wq_d8Bdk74WsIgjRlQ37jIt3SC-MrO8SX5NBJ1KGENdf6Xqte1GpXbqU3soAVFjmg-eLQVTnyvbMzcxVeIt7gxL2P1L5rj1u3Z2kwrAHfLamHxe27Z5kAEahHQ7XOa3_9dt6Q7-Q5JkHUBD6DFJWxJz3CUviRS0_hPxgZH4bArA2tg8DFG2yynU4/s1600/Alex-Rosen_400.jpeg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Wq_d8Bdk74WsIgjRlQ37jIt3SC-MrO8SX5NBJ1KGENdf6Xqte1GpXbqU3soAVFjmg-eLQVTnyvbMzcxVeIt7gxL2P1L5rj1u3Z2kwrAHfLamHxe27Z5kAEahHQ7XOa3_9dt6Q7-Q5JkHUBD6DFJWxJz3CUviRS0_hPxgZH4bArA2tg8DFG2yynU4/s1600/Alex-Rosen_400.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td>
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</table>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Liv Redpath (photo credit: Thomas Brunot; image source: <a href="https://mnopera.org/biography/liv-redpath/" target="_blank">Minnesota Opera</a>) and Alex Rosen (image source: <a href="https://www.askonasholt.com/askonas-holt-welcomes-bass-alex-rosen/" target="_blank">Askonas Holt</a>)
</p><p><b>A Baroque New Year's Eve at the Opera.</b> Liv Redpath, soprano, Alex Rosen, bass, with American Bach Soloists conducted by Jeffrey Thomas. Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, 31 December 2022.</p>
<p>Our year of concertgoing began, fittingly enough, with American Bach Soloists' Baroque New Year's Eve at the Opera, which for us has become an annual tradition. The 2022 edition featured soprano Liv Redpath and bass Alex Rosen in a program of arias by Handel, Purcell, Rameau and Vivaldi. Both soloists were impressive: Rosen possesses a rich bass, and Redpath's extraordinary voice offers both a pure high soprano and a lovely lower register. </p><p>There were plenty of bravura fireworks, which both singers handled adeptly, but we especially enjoyed the more emotion-laden moments: Redpath's performance of "V'adoro, pupile" and "Se pietà" from Handel's <i>Giulio Cesare</i>, and "Felicissima quest'alma" from his <i>Apollo e Dafne</i>, as well as Rosen's singing of "Leave me, loathsome light" from Handel's <i>Semele</i> and "Puisque Pluton est inflexible" from Rameau's <i>Hippolyte et Aricie</i>. A brilliant way to bring in the New Year; we're very much looking forward to <a href="https://americanbach.org/2023-Holiday-Concerts.html#hrblock-block-1r5" target="_blank">this year's edition</a>.</p>
<a name="didonato"></a><p><b>Update 7 November 2023:</b> Rebecca Paller profiles Liv Redpath in the December 2023 issue of <i>Opera</i> magazine (p. 1552). Paller notes that this past summer Redpath made her debut at <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2018/06/glyndebourne.html" target="_blank">Glyndebourne</a></b> as Tytania in Britten's <i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i>, and in October stepped onstage at the Metropolitan Opera as Oscar in Verdi's <i>Un ballo in maschera</i> (A Masked Ball). She will appear as the heroine Pamina in the Met's production of Mozart's <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2017/09/magic-flute.html" target="_blank">Magic Flute</a></b></i> next month. Congratulations to Redpath, whose career seems to be taking off in a spectacular fashion. Her success is richly deserved. [<a href="/#redpath">1</a>]<br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgtC45Z2J12-WjwIDLx96XkxgBqfe4_vAUiEjMeAS87iSc34HeDZZ05TySkzG7-R-DSZW6Sb0Lt9extGfLtQ_v-u-3w-H1usscLucmAu28I-PAPcLRShAbfcD4H6U5I5jkBB8y-HQbTkMheQuuJ3DcfFxWPyR1zeEEOyzBl3I7PtrVdV6eGf4C2cV/s1600/JoyceDiDonato-Eden_600.jpg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="429" data-original-width="600" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgtC45Z2J12-WjwIDLx96XkxgBqfe4_vAUiEjMeAS87iSc34HeDZZ05TySkzG7-R-DSZW6Sb0Lt9extGfLtQ_v-u-3w-H1usscLucmAu28I-PAPcLRShAbfcD4H6U5I5jkBB8y-HQbTkMheQuuJ3DcfFxWPyR1zeEEOyzBl3I7PtrVdV6eGf4C2cV/s1600/JoyceDiDonato-Eden_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Joyce DiDonato. Image source: <a href="https://joycedidonato.com/galleries/eden/" target="_blank">Joyce DiDonato: EDEN</a></p>
<p><b>Joyce DiDonato: EDEN</b>, with Il Pomo d'Oro, Zefira Valova, violin and conductor. Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, 21 January 2023.</p>
<p>This concert began with Joyce DiDonato vocalizing the trumpet part of Charles Ives' <i>The Unanswered Question</i> from about six feet behind us (we were in the next to last row of the mezzanine). Hearing the resonance of her powerful voice from just a few feet away was an almost overwhelming experience.</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/qqrVxjgZa-c?si=12LTccyOw1Qb3TKU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/qqrVxjgZa-c" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/qqrVxjgZa-c</a></p>
<p>By the end of the piece DiDonato had made her way to the stage, where she continued this deeply felt program on the theme of "the nourishing and healing of our world and our hearts" in the face of the ever-worsening climate crisis and the devastations of the COVID pandemic. Through musical selections on the theme of nature ranging from Monteverdi contemporaries Biagio Marini and Francesco Cavalli, through 18th century composers George Frederic Handel, Josef Mysliveček and Christoph Willibald Gluck, to 20th and 21st century songs written by Aaron Copland and Rachel Portman, DiDonato addressed our need for connection to the natural world. </p><p>If the seed packets handed out at the end of the concert seemed inadequate to the tasks we face, artists cannot solve global-scale crises but can only heighten our awareness, understanding, and empathy. In her program notes DiDonato herself pointed to Gene Scheer's words to Rachel Portman's "The First Morning of the World": "I am filled with nothing but questions." EDEN has been issued on CD, and interviews with DiDonato together with performances of musical selections are available as a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fTTH5VasjFY&list=PLXpGYWamZ9ZEh0eSyghulETPaDeN25n_8" target="_blank">YouTube playlist</a> on her channel.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kvJcZFs1PpbNkzJy7mQ1115r8fkklnszD4PhPJsiiZTsX8kcjiJPNJg_I6we4NcVSkMBNIdVBZviJ0GXcE2XqKXSVhix9kgb46xhRKnKK_EGJRjDACAoRGyIoqVE7ar87SNZ2xoKGiQrh_N2-lCB0wJDiaosTDuQ3Htr_GDrxmDIJCs93TSZwBsb/s600/Concert_Spirituel_St_James_2023-06-06.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kvJcZFs1PpbNkzJy7mQ1115r8fkklnszD4PhPJsiiZTsX8kcjiJPNJg_I6we4NcVSkMBNIdVBZviJ0GXcE2XqKXSVhix9kgb46xhRKnKK_EGJRjDACAoRGyIoqVE7ar87SNZ2xoKGiQrh_N2-lCB0wJDiaosTDuQ3Htr_GDrxmDIJCs93TSZwBsb/s16000/Concert_Spirituel_St_James_2023-06-06.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div><p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Le Concert Spirituel at St. James's Roman Catholic Church, Spanish Place, London, 6 June 2023. Photo credit: Matt Crossick/PA Wire</p>
<p><b>Handel: Solomon.</b> Soloists with The English Concert and The Clarion Choir, Harry Bicket, conductor. Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, 5 March 2023.</p>
<p><b>Handel: </b><b>Dettingen Te Deum and </b><b>Coronation Anthems.</b> Le Concert Spirituel, Hervé Niquet, conductor. Presented by Wigmore Hall at St. James's Roman Catholic Church Spanish Square, London, 6 June 2023.</p>
<p>It is undeniably thrilling to hear in person these pillars of the Monumental Baroque, which showcase the performance of massed choirs, blaring horns, piping winds and thundering timpani. </p><p>As anyone who has every heard the Hallelujah Chorus from <i>Messiah</i> can attest, Handel was a particular master of this style. The opening chorus of the Dettingen Te Deum, "We praise thee, O God," performed by Le Concert Spirituel:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/9TQAZMytckU?si=N34g7QiBNszOOvCq" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/9TQAZMytckU" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/9TQAZMytckU</a></p>
<p>In comparison to the massive choruses and huge orchestras that sometimes present these pieces, the musical forces in these performances were (relatively) modest in scale, but did not lack awe-inspiring power—nor, when it was called for, subtlety. To our surprise, the London concert was attended by the recently crowned King Charles III, adding to the sense of occasion.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKMRaugQUpoprNvt536d61bzhmvBqLC0DnBRrmyetiyfjbuk-EYJRwq0dH-DhyphenhyphenOkGRachJOrEUD6OBXtWD9mtN2-YFH_0vilwymFh9ONnuRdPAsAzpuiUiC5uZ-Srt5RznnEEJPDcNtS4fI7aKcaEI8TSt-aZZzh0FNeMn8gWgQ1hUHm6SmC8pf4e/s600/Alcina-BEMF_2023-06-10.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="600" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKMRaugQUpoprNvt536d61bzhmvBqLC0DnBRrmyetiyfjbuk-EYJRwq0dH-DhyphenhyphenOkGRachJOrEUD6OBXtWD9mtN2-YFH_0vilwymFh9ONnuRdPAsAzpuiUiC5uZ-Srt5RznnEEJPDcNtS4fI7aKcaEI8TSt-aZZzh0FNeMn8gWgQ1hUHm6SmC8pf4e/s16000/Alcina-BEMF_2023-06-10.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Colin Balzer (Ruggiero) and Mireille Lebel (Alcina) in Francesca Caccini's <i>Alcina</i>. Photo credit: Kathy Wittman. Image source: <a href="https://bemf.org/2023-festival/festival-operas/chamber-opera/" target="_blank">BEMF.org</a></p>
<p><b>Francesca Caccini: La liberazione di Ruggiero dall'isola d'Alcina.</b> Mireille Lebel (Alcina), Colin Balzer (Ruggiero), Cecilia Duarte (Melissa), and others. Presented by Boston Early Music Festival at New England Conservatory Jordan Hall, Boston, 10 June 2023.</p>
<p>From my original post, <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/07/music-in-london-and-boston.html" target="_blank">Music in London and Boston</a></b>: "Francesca Caccini's <i>Alcina</i> (1625) is the first known opera composed by a woman. The story of <i>Alcina</i> is taken by librettist Ferdinando Saracinelli from Ludovico Ariosto's <i>Orlando Furioso</i> (1532), the same source used more than a century later for <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2009/08/opera-guide-6-alcina.html" target="_blank">Handel's opera <i>Alcina</i></a></b> (1735). The knightly hero Ruggiero has been seduced by the beautiful sorceress Alcina into tarrying with her on her magic island in a haze of sensual pleasure. The sorceress Melissa, in male disguise, arrives and tries to recall Ruggiero to a sense of his martial duties. Ultimately Melissa prevails, and Alcina's enchantments of Ruggiero, and of her numerous former lovers who have been turned into the lush vegetation of her island, are broken."</p>
<p>An excerpt from Act II of the original 2018 BEMF production, in which Melissa brings Ruggiero to recommit to his knightly purpose:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/ztjuPzFryk8?si=2aI3KTX4ppSTH0jq" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/ztjuPzFryk8" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/ztjuPzFryk8</a></p>
<p><i>Alcina</i> offered a strong cast and benefited from longtime BEMF stage director Gilbert Blin's thoughtful staging, choreographer Melinda Sullivan's expressive movement, and designer Anna Watkins' effective costumes (particularly striking when the chorus, portraying the enchanted former lovers, was decked out with leaves and branches).</p><p><b>Honorable mention</b></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0sqCpU0HY0vIj6EZxZuEjz2LjKAIuNA1DsiKg12WkoPxutAymQWCiyoS2Unf0i2ZXHZ4N0YAUIm3bILQQY3XLIP56Hvo0idQdzhy5QY2sH9pbOtXpJ5NMlbzae4EDQcZpZ1GRhKoaqOzLxJC8z_LUIzhmql6lhsDn5blqRxW-TJzJy9ljurgBzG__/s600/Michael_Spyres_Wigmore_Hall_2023-05-21.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="600" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0sqCpU0HY0vIj6EZxZuEjz2LjKAIuNA1DsiKg12WkoPxutAymQWCiyoS2Unf0i2ZXHZ4N0YAUIm3bILQQY3XLIP56Hvo0idQdzhy5QY2sH9pbOtXpJ5NMlbzae4EDQcZpZ1GRhKoaqOzLxJC8z_LUIzhmql6lhsDn5blqRxW-TJzJy9ljurgBzG__/s16000/Michael_Spyres_Wigmore_Hall_2023-05-21.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Michael Spyres at Wigmore Hall, 21 May 2023. Image source: <a href="https://www.connessiallopera.it/recensioni/2023/londra-wigmore-hall-recital-di-michael-spyres/" target="_blank">Conessi all'Opera</a></p><p><b>Michael Spyres: Tenore Assoluto</b>, with Il Pomo d'Oro conducted by Francesco Corti. Wigmore Hall, London, 21 May 2023.</p><p>For many people this concert would have been the highlight of their year. As I wrote in <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/07/music-in-london-and-boston.html" target="_blank">Music in London and Boston</a></b>: "Spyres' voice is astonishing. He calls himself a 'baritenor,' and indeed has a remarkably wide range; he also has the vocal flexibility to execute rapid coloratura passages. But this concert, in which Spyres sang one fiery vocal showpiece after another, was almost too much of a good thing. For me the highlight of the evening was Spyres' first encore, 'J'ai perdu mon Eurydice' (I have lost my Eurydice) from Christoph Willibald Gluck's <i>Orphée et Eurydice</i> (1774), his French-language adaptation of <i>Orfeo ed Euridice</i> (1762). For this listener Spyres' moving and lyrical performance of this aria provided a grateful respite from the spectacular fireworks that preceded it." The music Spyres performed at this concert has been released on his album <i><a href="https://www.prestomusic.com/classical/articles/5239--interview-raider-of-the-lost-archives-michael-spyres-on-contra-tenor" target="_blank">Contra-Tenor</a></i>.</p>
<p>From Lully's <i>Persée</i>, "Cessons de redouter la fortune cruelle":</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/FjqZ16oXulY?si=R9i2Pny1lMu8_Fih" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjqZ16oXulY&list=OLAK5uy_n9dgND5gkR-zQ1Akjs8PAhHrXPjmty1Wc" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/FjqZ16oXulY</a></p>
<p><b>Streamed and recorded performances</b></p>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTpleESkDV_CtfoymHmAk6HEYcFiHWOMmoiBDWgvbOezLElNPEpACe2dLBj6neEv7hdt0Y6DJh7X5OMS9fzSJXv_Q-Ey2JYszaquZOfkC84bS0aQPlF8e1S8Bae6RL5s6kLQywbd5SPA8VH7VhEqbJ6RgnzfSVeriogsomow-QivNOTF0-jxja_LO/s600/jaroussky_concert_de_la_loge_royaumont_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="600" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTpleESkDV_CtfoymHmAk6HEYcFiHWOMmoiBDWgvbOezLElNPEpACe2dLBj6neEv7hdt0Y6DJh7X5OMS9fzSJXv_Q-Ey2JYszaquZOfkC84bS0aQPlF8e1S8Bae6RL5s6kLQywbd5SPA8VH7VhEqbJ6RgnzfSVeriogsomow-QivNOTF0-jxja_LO/s16000/jaroussky_concert_de_la_loge_royaumont_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Philippe Jaroussky with Le Concert de la Loge at l'Abbaye de Royaumont. Image source: <a href="https://bemf.org/" style="font-size: 90%;" target="_blank">BEMF.org</a></p>
<p><b>Boston Early Music Festival 2022-23 virtual concert season</b>. BEMF continues to make their concerts available via streaming, which is of inestimable benefit for those of us who don't live in the Boston area. Tickets cost about the same as a movie, and concerts are available for two weeks once they start streaming (generally, about two weeks after the concert date). Added bonuses are pre-concert talks and interviews with the artists. The 2022-23 season featured Philippe Jaroussky, Vox Luminis (both mentioned in my <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2022/11/favorites-of-2022-live-and-streamed.html" target="_blank">Favorites of 2022</a>), chamber operas by Lully and Charpentier, Tallis Scholars, Bach Collegium Japan, Stile Antico, and many other accomplished artists. </p><p>The opening of Antonio Vivaldi's <i>Nisi Dominus</i>, performed by Philippe Jaroussky with Le Concert de la Loge, Julien Chauvin, director:<br /></p>
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/EeYZNT7zLI8?si=6Wo_sa58-fmGYKDl" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/EeYZNT7zLI8" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/EeYZNT7zLI8</a></p>
<p>BEMF's <a href="https://bemf.org/concert-season/" target="_blank">2023-24 virtual season</a> has just begun, and is well worth exploring.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8qeI5zLKuFjD3iw1xEJNtF3p_jpOfcU4PgXc448-qtNwLEkZohCmQMMueAUFD2QCpb9-Tmt3V6QtjL4Sy34BuCrBnDJBh-HXdmgrAhYJXC-uRS2KLUjqnwDAsshmUqk1LUbBAq_UBRaUvIcktRSYlKemtNC1abjsf-8n3nfBHIH3Bf6QD7rML4R3/s600/boston_baroque_iphigenie.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8qeI5zLKuFjD3iw1xEJNtF3p_jpOfcU4PgXc448-qtNwLEkZohCmQMMueAUFD2QCpb9-Tmt3V6QtjL4Sy34BuCrBnDJBh-HXdmgrAhYJXC-uRS2KLUjqnwDAsshmUqk1LUbBAq_UBRaUvIcktRSYlKemtNC1abjsf-8n3nfBHIH3Bf6QD7rML4R3/s16000/boston_baroque_iphigenie.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Soula Parassidis (Iphigénie) and Jesse Blumberg (Oreste) in a scene from Boston Baroque’s production of Gluck's <i>Iphigénie en Tauride</i> (1779). Photo credit: Sam Brewer. Image source: <a href="https://artsfuse.org/271979/classical-concert-review-boston-baroques-iphigenie-en-tauride/" target="_blank">the arts fuse</a></p>
<p><b>Christoph Willibald Gluck: Iphigénie en Tauride</b>. Soula Parassidis (Iphigénie), Jesse Blumberg (Oreste), William Burden (Pylade), and others, with Boston Baroque conducted by Martin Pearlman.</p><p>There are multiple versions of the legends surrounding the Trojan War. Part of the tradition (depicted in Sophocles’ <i>Electra</i>, for example) is that on its way to Troy, the Greek fleet anchors in the harbor of Aulis. Agamemnon goes ashore and kills a deer in a sacred grove, offending the goddess Artemis, who then causes the Greek fleet to become becalmed. Only by the sacrifice of Agamemnon's daughter will the anger of Artemis be appeased and favorable winds enable the fleet to sail.</p><p>There's another version of the Iphigenia story, in which Artemis intervenes at the last moment and substitutes a deer for the sacrificial victim, who is transported to Tauride to serve as high priestess at a shrine to the goddess. This is the background of Nicolas-François Guillard's libretto for Gluck's opera. When Iphigénie's brother Oreste and his companion Pylade are shipwrecked on Tauride, neither sibling recognizes the other. And as high priestess, Iphigénie is called on to sacrifice one of the Greeks on the altar of Artemis.</p>
<p>Boston Baroque's spare, effective production made a virtue of its minimalism. The action took place in front of and around the musicians of the orchestra, and video projections supplied the scene- and mood-settings. The cast was uniformly excellent, with special honors to the three principals.</p>
<p>Iphigénie's Act II aria on learning of her brother's supposed death, "Ô malheureuse Iphigénie" (Oh, unhappy Iphigénie), performed by Soula Parassidis:</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/9hvx7HQwPAk" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/9hvx7HQwPAk</a></p>
<p><a href="https://baroque.boston/23-24-season" target="_blank">Boston Baroque's 2023-24 season</a> is underway, and their live stream is pay what you can.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAcFpb_jmrdQ5kCEMiYJk9RvZ6kesmbm9gqzkkQq4ddfUNfPl7nyXFvgFUGHGYDDzrWiKAS7XiwraBV4MHvtwITkaE8kpXM4sbkC-jhiwh7R58TCGkMHbMWt97UpaRQr3hXiuprmfxJKVpD50rI5xSraI8KR2jAlu_YM67Pfgb9XsDXoC4ma6DxM9/s600/Dove_e_amore_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAcFpb_jmrdQ5kCEMiYJk9RvZ6kesmbm9gqzkkQq4ddfUNfPl7nyXFvgFUGHGYDDzrWiKAS7XiwraBV4MHvtwITkaE8kpXM4sbkC-jhiwh7R58TCGkMHbMWt97UpaRQr3hXiuprmfxJKVpD50rI5xSraI8KR2jAlu_YM67Pfgb9XsDXoC4ma6DxM9/s16000/Dove_e_amore_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Left to right: Lenka Máčiková (Marquise Clarice), Kateřina Kněžíková (Vespetta), Jaroslav Březina (Patrizio), and Aleš Briscein (Count Orazio) in Act II of Giuseppe Scarlatti's <i>Dove è amore è gelosia</i> at the Baroque Theatre of Krumlov Castle. Image source: <a href="https://lenkamacikova.com/portfolio/giuseppe-scarlatti-dove-e-amore-e-gelosia-where-there-is-love-there-is-jealousy/" target="_blank">Lenka Máčiková</a></p><p><b>Giuseppe Scarlatti: Dove è amore è gelosia</b> (Where there's love there's jealousy), libretto by Marco Coltellini. Soloists with the Schwarzenberg Court Orchestra conducted by Vojtěch Spurný. Baroque Theatre of Krumlov Castle, Czech Republic, filmed in September 2011, Opus Arte OA 1104 D.</p>
<p>Giuseppi Scarlatti, most probably the nephew of Domenico Scarlatti (although possibly his cousin), composed some 30 operas. <i>Dove è amore è gelosia</i> is a two-act comedy which features the love problems of an aristocratic couple (Marquise Clarice, a widow, and Count Orazio, her would-be second husband) and a servant couple (Vespetta, the Marquise's lady's maid, and Patrizio, Count Orazio's manservant). The Marquise finds the Count to be too jealous and possessive; Vespetta thinks Patrizio is taking her for granted. Both men are taught a lesson before all ends well.</p>
<p>From Act I, in the aria "Intendo la tua pena" the Marquise muses on her lonely situation as a young widow, but notes a woman's double bind. In the second verse she sings, "Trista è la vedovanza / In giovinetta età, / E se un piacer le avanza / Non è di libertà" (It is sad to be a widow / as a young woman / But when pleasure beckons / It means the end of freedom):</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/pPnftimj8dU?start=1669&end=1794" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/pPnftimj8dU?t=1669" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/pPnftimj8dU?t=1669</a> [ends 29:54]</p>
<p>The opera was filmed in the same Baroque theatre in which it had its premiere on 24 July 1768. The occasion of the premiere was the wedding of Johann Nepomuk, eldest son of Prince Josef Adam of Schwarzenburg, to Maria Eleanora, Countess of Oettingen-Wallerstein. The premiere was a family affair: the Marquise was sung by the 21-year-old second daughter of Prince Josef, Maria Theresia; the Count by the Count of Salburg, a family friend; Vespetta by Giuseppe Scarlatti's second wife, the opera singer Antonia Lefebvre; and Patrizio by the opera's librettist, Marco Coltellini. It was conducted from the harpsichord by the composer himself.</p>
<p>Part of the attraction of the video of the opera is that it takes us behind the scenes (and beneath the stage) to show us Baroque stagecraft. Today the technical aspects of opera production are extremely sophisticated, thanks to computerization. Set changes can be automated, with motorized units moving into and out of place and hydraulic elevators quickly raising and lowering set pieces, props and actors. Projections can create ever-changing backdrops such as stormy seas, glowing sunsets, lush gardens or elaborate interiors. For changes in place, time of day, or mood, LED lighting instruments can be programmed to change color, focus on different spots, and vary beam widths on cue.</p><p>This production attempts to recreate the way the opera would have been staged in the 18th century. The singers perform and the orchestra plays by candlelight. Sets are painted flats on tracks, and backdrops are hung on pipes; both are changed in full view of the audience. Elevators and machines controlled by pulley systems and human muscle power bring singers or props up from below stage level (as seen in the video excerpt above). It's a fascinating glimpse of 18th-century stage practice, and the DVD includes an excellent bonus documentary on the restoration of the theater and the recreation of the opera's first performance. </p><p>You can see <a href="https://youtu.be/Bnx14A8E7PE?si=kF0-H9mBEtorrSFz" target="_blank">an 11-minute documentary on the history of the theatre and its restoration</a> on YouTube; below I've embedded a three-minute short on the production of Scarlatti's opera. Both are well worth your time.</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/StfiLQW4DZU?si=YBgHLUIiVHbE3bsA" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/StfiLQW4DZU" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/StfiLQW4DZU</a></p>
<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>
<hr>
<ol>
<a name="redpath"></a><li><p>Review of <a href="https://bachtrack.com/review-midsummer-nights-dream-hall-mead-redpath-stasevska-glyndebourne-july-2023" target="_blank">Britten's <i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i></a> by Mark Pullinger from Bachtrack, 2 July 2023: "[Tim] Mead['s Oberon] was well-matched by Liv Redpath’s Tytania, silvery voiced, bright top notes hit dead centre."<br />
Review of <a href="https://bachtrack.com/review-ballo-maschera-alden-rizzi-castronovo-meade-kelsey-metropolitan-opera-new-york-october-2023" target="_blank">Verdi's <i>Un Ballo en maschera</i></a> by Keven W. Ng from Bachtrack, 1 November 2023: "The other outstanding performance of the evening comes from soprano Liv Redpath. . .Redpath brings a poised, rounded tone to the role [of Oscar]. She certainly has the coloratura chops for it, with brilliant staccati and a neat trill, but she impressed most in the ensembles, with a soaring radiance that many a Violetta would envy. She’s also a game performer, executing the manic choreography with ease." <a href="/#didonato">^ Return</a></p>
</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-91077795683515164692023-10-28T11:51:00.026-07:002023-12-23T21:32:10.197-08:00Favorites of 2023: Music - Our year of French Baroque opera<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7exuMv1ivtNHWv_JC6A02T1Zjp5x5xzOn3SQTjRv6iliw-Wp58O43_yKeaSR9yPEe_YQAilJ3lpOCavmSjkyvA3eXUZlgVdwyBTC_56faGiM7_jnu8RItpTHWRXaFGMl_QSdEGItTvUWkw-_s3Ufer9MRVjk_nhCu4lS8lmtdV9_ouY7NqLhqCkcn/s800/Circe_2_Majestic_Theatre_2023-06-03.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7exuMv1ivtNHWv_JC6A02T1Zjp5x5xzOn3SQTjRv6iliw-Wp58O43_yKeaSR9yPEe_YQAilJ3lpOCavmSjkyvA3eXUZlgVdwyBTC_56faGiM7_jnu8RItpTHWRXaFGMl_QSdEGItTvUWkw-_s3Ufer9MRVjk_nhCu4lS8lmtdV9_ouY7NqLhqCkcn/s16000/Circe_2_Majestic_Theatre_2023-06-03.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Amanda Forsythe (Éolie) and Karina Gauvin (Circé) in Henri Desmarest's <i>Circé</i>, centerpiece opera of the Boston Early Music Festival (seen 11 June 2023). Photo credit: Kathy Wittman. Image source: <a href="https://bemf.org/2023-festival/festival-operas/centerpiece-opera/" target="_blank">BEMF.org</a></p>
<p>It's the time of year when once again I choose my favorite music, books, and films first experienced in the past 12 months. To begin I'm going to review my favorite live, streamed, and recorded musical performances. <b> </b></p><p><b>Our year of French Baroque opera </b></p><p>Ordinarily I order my selections chronologically, but in this first installment I'm organizing them thematically as well, because for us this was the year of French Baroque opera.<br /></p>I have been listening to French Baroque opera for about as long as I've been listening to opera, over three decades. But until this year I'd often felt that I generally preferred Italian opera to the operas of Marc-Antoine Charpentier, Jean-Philippe Rameau, and especially Jean-Baptiste Lully.<br /><p>Lully, the man who defined French opera in opposition to Italian opera, ironically was himself an Italian. He was born in Florence as Giovanni Battista Lulli in 1631 and did not become a French subject until 1661. His operas, which became the model in France for the next century, are characterized by five-act structure plus an allegorical prologue. Airs are often short and are generally sung without repeats (except perhaps a refrain), and there are extensive passages of recitative (sometimes comprising whole scenes). The chorus, a large group separate from the soloists, has a prominent role, and extensive instrumental or dance sequences are often featured. The distribution of voices includes sopranos, high tenors, and basses, but rarely altos (the range of most castrati, who were not popular in France).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_EyBZImcng32XAP-RkjD4_jo2sePvovKm2-DbUVwA1RfAOlv7mdB5-iDE12lEz7dCYkjZ5lXB3fyCK4_GSm-73XsvlDRFUXRxWygJYNxDt5yIU-zoWmb1nqlA3IEH71mZP2QH3CTcZPVuQa31u6DYuzBDmghhH_sTbJB_VJXTxhlc_2CtOK3lbw3/s1600/pygmalion_480.jpeg" style="display: block; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="480" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_EyBZImcng32XAP-RkjD4_jo2sePvovKm2-DbUVwA1RfAOlv7mdB5-iDE12lEz7dCYkjZ5lXB3fyCK4_GSm-73XsvlDRFUXRxWygJYNxDt5yIU-zoWmb1nqlA3IEH71mZP2QH3CTcZPVuQa31u6DYuzBDmghhH_sTbJB_VJXTxhlc_2CtOK3lbw3/s1600/pygmalion_480.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;"><i>Pygmalion et Galatée</i> by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1890. Image source: <a href="https://dpb-web.instantencore.com/program/42957/centerharmonious-lovecent/page/63032/pygmalion-notes?cid=5089820" target="_blank">American Bach Soloists</a></p>
<p>There are, of course, exceptions to this five-act structure, such as <b>Rameau's <i>Pygmalion</i></b>, a one-act opera composed in 1748. The artist Pygmalion spurns his lover Céphise because he has fallen in love with his own creation, a Statue. L'Amour brings the Statue to life, and she and Pygmalion declare their mutual love. L'Amour consoles Céphise by finding her another lover, and everyone rejoices. This 45-minute work was enchantingly performed by the singers and musicians of American Bach Soloists led by director Jeffrey Thomas (seen 8 May 2023). The excellent soloists were Matthew Hill (Pygmalion), Morgan Balfour (Céphise), Amy Broadbent (La Statue Animée), and Mary Wilson (L'Amour). Coupled with Handel's lovely Italian cantata <i>Apollo e Dafne</i>, featuring Hadleigh Adams (Apollo) and Mary Wilson (Daphne), <i>Pygmalion</i> was the ideal work to inaugurate our season of French Baroque opera.</p>
<p>While in London during late May and early June, if we didn't have a concert or other evening activity planned we tended to stay in. Our thanks to the generous relative who gave us a subscription to the streaming service Medici.tv, which gave us the opportunity to revisit director Jean-Marie Villégier's production of <b>Lully's <i>Atys</i></b> (1675). Filmed in Paris in 2011 and featuring Les Arts Florissants conducted by William Christie, it's your typical Baroque love quadrangle: the nymph Sangaride (Emmanuelle de Negri) is betrothed to the Phrygian King Celenus (Nicolas Rivenq) in obedience to her father, a river god (Bernard Deletré). However, she secretly loves the youth Atys (Bernard Richter), and he loves her. The goddess Cybèle (Stéphanie d'Oustrac) descends to bless the nuptials of King Celenus and Sangaride, and to declare<i> her</i> love for Atys. Now, if Atys and Sangaride's love is discovered it will offend father, King and goddess. It can't end well. . .</p><p>The closing minutes of Act I, the arrival of the goddess Cybèle ("Venez tous dans mon temple"):</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/hmy1PwW1RmU?si=gmj9KP9xQ89biO49" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/hmy1PwW1RmU" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/hmy1PwW1RmU</a></p>
<p>Villégier's production, with Patrice Cauchetier's black, silver and gold period costumes, stylized gestures, and the Baroque dancers of Compagnie Fêtes galantes, was groundbreaking when it was first introduced in 1987. Decades later it remains extraordinarily handsome, and the cast could not be bettered.</p>
<p>It was excellent preparation for our next live experience of French Baroque opera, the Boston Early Music Festival's production of <b>Henri Desmarest's <i>Circé</i></b> (1694). The scenic design, costumes and dance were inspired by Baroque models. You can read my full description of this performance in <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/07/music-in-london-and-boston.html" target="_blank">Music in London and Boston</a></b>, where I wrote that "<i>Circé</i> was a spectacular triumph for the BEMF performers and production team." From the BEMF recording of <i>Circé</i>, the opening aria of Act III, "Désirs, transports, cruelle impatience," sung by Amanda Forsythe (Éolie) [1]:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/pVdthstyaSk?si=jYcF8VEcMGNyrtnB" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/pVdthstyaSk" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/pVdthstyaSk</a></p>
<p>On our return home, eager to see more, we continued our explorations on Medici.tv. Two productions of <b>Rameau's <i>Hippolyte et Aricie</i></b> (1733) caught our eye. The first, director Jonathan Kent's 2013 production from Glyndebourne, features William Christie conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with soloists that include Sarah Connolly as Phèdre and Stéphane Degout as her husband Thesée. Interestingly, they are also the Phèdre and Thesée in director Ivan Alexandre's 2012 production from the Opéra Bastille, featuring Emmanuelle Haïm conducting Le Concert d'Astrée. Both versions are highly recommendable. The Glyndebourne production uses hunting and consumption as governing metaphors (the Prologue, which takes place in a giant refrigerator, is a highlight). Christie's tempi are well-judged, and the soloists and the Glyndebourne Chorus are second to none. The Opéra Bastille production employs Baroque costumes, staging and dancing, and is visually and aurally splendid.</p><p>Amazingly, although Rameau was 50 years old at the time of the first performance of <i>Hippolyte et Aricie</i>, it was his first opera. Rameau's fellow composer André Campra famously remarked of <i>Hippolyte</i> that "there is enough music in this opera to make ten of them; this man will eclipse us all." [2] From the Opéra Bastille production, the Deuxième Air des Chasseurs, "A la chasse" ("To the hunt!"; the Huntress is sung by Andrea Hill):<br /></p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/c-4i_Rfax5M?si=elBi4Mu4ppkocIkG&start=7890&end=8058" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/c-4i_Rfax5M?t=7890" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/c-4i_Rfax5M</a> [ends at 2:14:18]</p>
<p>To close out our French Baroque opera discoveries this year I'll mention two more Lully operas seen on Medici.tv. <b>Lully's </b><i><b>Cadmus et Hermione</b></i> (1673) was his first full-scale success, and determined the form of French opera for the next 100 years. The hero Cadmus is forced to undergo a series of trials to win the hand of Hermione, daughter of Mars and Venus. The 2008 production from the Opéra-Comique is directed by Benjamin Lazar with lavish Baroque costumes, scenery and staging. Musically it is superb, featuring the forces of Le Poème Harmonique conducted by Vincente Dumestre.</p><p>The final scene of Act IV, in which Cadmus (André Morsch) is reunited with Hermione (Claire Lefilliâtre) after rescuing her, with Athena's aid, from a giant. "Ah, how sweet is the memory of pain," they sing, "when at last one finds happiness!" But not so fast: a cloud descends from the heavens, and Hermione is abducted:<br /></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/hknfcgh3jL8?si=WR0GtTVj9dgYWQ9g" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/hknfcgh3jL8" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/hknfcgh3jL8</a></p>
<p>Speaking of heros aided by Athena, our final French Baroque opera was <b>Lully's <i>Persée</i></b> (1682). The hero Persée loves the daughter of King Céphée, Andromède, who is betrothed to her uncle Phinée. Andromède returns the love of Persée, but Mérope, Queen Cassiope's sister, also secretly loves him. Meanwhile the snake-haired monster Méduse is wreaking havoc on the kingdom; anyone who gazes at her is instantly turned to stone. Persée must slay Méduse and rescue Andromède from a sea monster before the couple can be united. But not so fast: the lovelorn Mérope interrupts the wedding ceremony to warn that Phinée and his assassins are about to attack the wedding to kill Persée.</p>
<p>The 2004 production by Toronto's Opera Atelier directed by Marshall Pynkoski features Cyril Auvity as Persée, Marie Lenormand as Andromède, and Monica Whicher as Mérope, with Tafelmusik Chamber Orchestra and Choir conducted by Hervé Niquet. In Act II's "Infortunés, qu'un monstre affreux," Mérope and Andromède meet, and each recognizes the other's love for the hero about risk his life to save the kingdom:</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/OBdcDpd6AIo?si=6spNYhWn02EZ0mrH" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/OBdcDpd6AIo" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/OBdcDpd6AIo</a></p>
<p>The intelligent direction and ravishing visuals of these productions are certainly an important part of their appeal. But what we find most compelling are the emotional dilemmas at their center: the impossible love of Sangaride and Atys, the separations faced by Cadmus and Hermione and Persée and Andromède, and the thwarted passions of Céphise for Pygmalion, Circé for Ulisse, Phèdre for her stepson Hippolyte, and Mérope for Persée. And we find that these dilemmas are heightened, rather than diminished, by the stylizations of Baroque stagings. Enhanced by their spectacular settings and costumes, these stagings also demonstrate the power of emotional restraint and understatement.</p>
<p><b>Posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/books-our-year-of-byron.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Byron</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/our-year-of-agatha-christie.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Agatha Christie</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/12/favorites-of-2023-movies-and-television.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Movies and television</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-movies-alec-guinness.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of Alec Guinness</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/11/favorites-of-2023-music.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Music</b></a></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10 px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/favorites-of-2023-french-baroque-opera.html" target="_blank"><b>Favorites of 2023: Our year of French Baroque Opera</b></a></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">A minor issue for us, although it may be a sticking point for some: BEMF co-director Stephen Stubbs employs Baroque guitar liberally throughout the <i>Circé</i> recording. Although we don't have an exact list of the instruments in the orchestra of the Académie Royale de Musique, the records we do have mention theorbos (generally plucked) rather than Baroque guitar (generally strummed). See James R. Anthony, <i>French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau</i>, Revised and expanded edition, Amadeus Press, 1997, p. 123.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Quoted in Anthony, <i>French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau</i>, p. 162.</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-29993392928480710932023-10-14T14:41:00.002-07:002024-01-07T07:28:54.840-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 5: Drive My Car<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzZtqSwkFRoqqTZjIS2uhmFc-anal6I5NRQruARWGV-r9KGwRRKN7w-YLywyBfLON_Fs5enELjZfQk60cRchpwIhXInTL5rNpS3zH2vXG3haPbbsYcl3kHtKGYQM8r3xTTVwvYgokWR-WseFZWq9F-U3W5fovC6Le58KuDToC_d9FPcsoWnizOa9U/s600/Drive-My-Car-600.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="600" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzZtqSwkFRoqqTZjIS2uhmFc-anal6I5NRQruARWGV-r9KGwRRKN7w-YLywyBfLON_Fs5enELjZfQk60cRchpwIhXInTL5rNpS3zH2vXG3haPbbsYcl3kHtKGYQM8r3xTTVwvYgokWR-WseFZWq9F-U3W5fovC6Le58KuDToC_d9FPcsoWnizOa9U/s16000/Drive-My-Car-600.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Yusuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and Misaki Watari (Toko Miura) in <i>Drive My Car</i>. Image source: <a href="https://thefilmstage.com/first-look-at-ryusuke-hamaguchis-haruki-murakami-adaptation-drive-my-car/" target="_blank">The Film Stage</a></p>
<p>Writer-director Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's film <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021) seamlessly combines elements from two Haruki Murakami short stories, "Drive My Car" and "Scheherezade," from the collection <i>Men Without Women</i> (2014).</p>
<p>Theater actor and director Yusuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) lives in Tokyo with his younger wife Oto (Reika Kirishima), a television screenwriter. In the opening scenes we see their post-coital ritual, where Oto narrates a story to Yusuke.</p>
<p>Oto's story is about a high-school girl with a crush on a classmate. She starts breaking into his house when she knows no one will be there and entering his room. Each time she takes some small object whose absence won't be noticed, and somewhere in the room hides a token of herself.</p>
<p>As Yusuke is driving Oto to work the next day in his vintage red Saab 900 Turbo, they go over the story together, shaping it and teasing out its meanings. Oto is writing a screenplay for a late-night TV program, but Yusuke asks her to wait until they make love again to complete the story, whose ending she hasn't yet imagined.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpWBzJNjy6Ks15jTFuSKgCkgo758yu_9-TUQMhBxB4YBoH5ZXxq0nAKKjDr2xlsSF9SFqWR0rt-joe9p8A0KVXCIMpNfbyEnBnr1Hf4-dNy3FGjHQaay2YIREla_OAmpjZWSFnyjYXK_wPVrbWxld-mI8FwrA_zYY0BY6MLgwB02GzVZQI-t9iFhb/s600/Drive-My-Car-1-600.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpWBzJNjy6Ks15jTFuSKgCkgo758yu_9-TUQMhBxB4YBoH5ZXxq0nAKKjDr2xlsSF9SFqWR0rt-joe9p8A0KVXCIMpNfbyEnBnr1Hf4-dNy3FGjHQaay2YIREla_OAmpjZWSFnyjYXK_wPVrbWxld-mI8FwrA_zYY0BY6MLgwB02GzVZQI-t9iFhb/s16000/Drive-My-Car-1-600.jpeg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Oto (Reika Kirishima) and Yusuke (Hidetoshi Nishijima) in <i>Drive My Car</i>. Image source: <a href="https://thefilmstage.com/drive-my-car-trailer-ryusuke-hamaguchis-masterful-haruki-murakami-adaptation-arrives-this-month/" target="_blank">The Film Stage</a></p>
<p>That evening Yusuke is appearing as Vladimir in a performance of Samuel Beckett's <i>Waiting for Godot</i>. We see the last moments of the play. Hamaguchi cuts away just before the final lines:</p>
<p><span style="font-variant: small-caps; margin-left: 40px;">vladimir:</span> Well? Shall we go?<br />
<span style="font-variant: small-caps; margin-left: 40px;">estragon:</span> Yes, let's go.<br />
<span style="font-style: italic; margin-left: 100px;">They do not move.</span><br />
<span style="font-style: italic; margin-left: 100px;">Curtain.</span></p>
<p>The omission of these lines is significant: it will turn out that one of the themes of the movie is movement versus stasis.</p><p>Later, Oto continues her story. The girl feels herself drawn to the boy's room, where "time stands still. Past and present fade away." She removes her clothes and begins to masturbate on the boy's bed when she hears someone entering the house and coming up the stairs. "Now she can stop at last. . .she'll become a new person. The door opens." Is Oto trying to tell Yusuke something? [1]</p>
<p>The next day as Yusuke is leaving, Oto asks him if they can talk when he returns that evening. "Of course," he responds. But Yusuke has lied. Instead of going to teach a workshop, as he'd told Oto, he drives around Tokyo rehearsing his lines for an upcoming production of <i>Uncle Vanya</i> to a cassette tape of the lines for the other characters recorded by his wife. The play seems to comment on their situation; is Yusuke rehearsing for the conversation with Oto, which he clearly dreads?. . .</p>
<p>Two years later, Yusuke has come to Hiroshima to stage a multilingual production of Chekov's <i>Uncle Vanya</i>. Thanks to a past accident, the festival requires their artists to have drivers rather than drive themselves. Yusuke is a bit obsessive about driving—he hates to be a passenger—and about his car. Like most drivers he thinks that other drivers are either too aggressive, too timid, or too distracted. Driving is also how he runs his lines, by playing the cassettes recorded by his wife of the other characters' parts. Those cassettes are also a connection to her, and Chekhov's lines often seem to be commenting on Yusuke's past and current emotional state.</p>
<p>So Yusuke is not happy when he is assigned a young woman, Misaki (Toko Miura), as his chauffeuse. But the taciturn Misaki is a skilled driver and, if Yusuke is never quite fully comfortable as a passenger, he slowly comes to accept her. As he begins to unbend, they both begin to reveal more about themselves; ultimately, each helps the other come to terms with a trauma from the past.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjCJbkm0mRjasRmEdHyVs8PzgzBqRb5p7TWOUzWaMm39VSzft2fIe9OZFRPm-wEN23Daz6mu4GRoetulGXe7yTYU3k-QRV8jJY8Im73Js65kmCz3uSnXWrBbmf8Z5l073Ebhb5-AQb_wszwz_WSxXzH1_TB-7rvKKkFPqe-tHoU5HWvZAyHr6Pc1v/s600/DriveMyCar-600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjCJbkm0mRjasRmEdHyVs8PzgzBqRb5p7TWOUzWaMm39VSzft2fIe9OZFRPm-wEN23Daz6mu4GRoetulGXe7yTYU3k-QRV8jJY8Im73Js65kmCz3uSnXWrBbmf8Z5l073Ebhb5-AQb_wszwz_WSxXzH1_TB-7rvKKkFPqe-tHoU5HWvZAyHr6Pc1v/s16000/DriveMyCar-600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;"><i>Drive My Car</i>. Image source: <a href="https://www.uk.emb-japan.go.jp/JAPANUKEvent/event/2022/202201/05-JS-DriveMyCar.html" target="_blank">Japan Society Film Club</a></p>
<p>As Yusuke and Misaki slowly reach an understanding, we also watch the casting, rehearsals and performance of <i>Uncle Vanya</i>. Yusuke is renowned for his unconventional casting choices. One of the actors who has auditioned is Koji Takatsuki (Masaki Okada), a TV heartthrob who had starred in a show that Oto was writing. Yusuke unexpectedly casts him as the middle-aged Vanya, a role that Yusuke himself is famous for. The two men go drinking after rehearsals, but we learn that Yusuke has a ulterior motive for getting to know Takatsuki. And unfortunately Takatsuki is involved in a sensationalistic subplot added by Hamaguchi that seems both implausible and jarringly out of place in this quiet, reflective film.</p>
<p>Apart from the violent Takatsuki subplot, Hamaguchi's elaborations of his source material develop layers of meaning only hinted at in Murakami's stories—the scenes from Yusuke's stage productions, for example, which seem to enact and, in the end, provide a partial resolution for, Yusuke's emotional dilemmas. The acting is excellent, with special kudos for Nishijima, Kirishima, Miura, and Park Yu-Rim, as a mute actress who movingly delivers the final lines of <i>Uncle Vanya</i> in Korean Sign Language. The images are also beautifully composed by Hamaguchi and photographed and lit by cinematographer Hidetoshi Shinomiya. <i>Drive My Car</i> is a rich, subtle, and visually striking film. </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JMOhjwP5Fz4KAiFfVesACJdSWpNppP4de1Az6BI-6tmILgvbPRLreMZLBAqVgttzhMsz_65wshUxDaiy9zOVsKHItANLsR6T44U9P1D2lJQRzWLc0RMZQYroTSHroLw-4qttlQ3HCsDHz-8X_GKE0MQAWCWJoadYRlfHU9il1zw-NVJ0g3VPwJ9d/s720/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JMOhjwP5Fz4KAiFfVesACJdSWpNppP4de1Az6BI-6tmILgvbPRLreMZLBAqVgttzhMsz_65wshUxDaiy9zOVsKHItANLsR6T44U9P1D2lJQRzWLc0RMZQYroTSHroLw-4qttlQ3HCsDHz-8X_GKE0MQAWCWJoadYRlfHU9il1zw-NVJ0g3VPwJ9d/s16000/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Haruki Murakami. Photo credit: Kevin Trageser / Redux. Image source: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/haruki-murakami-02-17-20" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank"><b>The English Library novels</b></a>: <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank"><b>The first U.S. publications</b></a>: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> (1982/1989) and <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World</i> (1985/1991)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The transition</b></a>: <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> (1980-91/1993) and <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> (1988/1994)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-4-wind-up-bird-chronicle.html" target="_blank"><b>International breakthrough</b></a>: <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1994-95/1997)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/01/haruki-murakami-part-6-manga-stories.html" target="_blank"><b>Comics adaptation</b></a>: Jean-Christophe Deveney and PMGL's <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (2021/2023)</li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">This scene, by the way, is not from Murakami's short story, but is one of the many details in the film that have been added by Hamaguchi.</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-82343712177382876552023-10-07T15:30:00.007-07:002024-01-07T07:22:18.962-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 4: The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJRzXmmVvjAWKjdOmxKZJXRAKDsHqfc02gmc5n1zGG_edMoaR94LlhEPE0DaijnP93W_Gu3_UhW8Az91VhTpmBTzo_iSFzfRHSYk04fyKhMCbExcxNHwm4KUnv9MdTpRtRhaS_g3WosPn-csc6dD5PhYFx0N9roDWKXsiPAkHWz5VORRviDkXQWnR/s720/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJRzXmmVvjAWKjdOmxKZJXRAKDsHqfc02gmc5n1zGG_edMoaR94LlhEPE0DaijnP93W_Gu3_UhW8Az91VhTpmBTzo_iSFzfRHSYk04fyKhMCbExcxNHwm4KUnv9MdTpRtRhaS_g3WosPn-csc6dD5PhYFx0N9roDWKXsiPAkHWz5VORRviDkXQWnR/s16000/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Haruki Murakami. Photo credit: Kevin Trageser / Redux. Image source: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/haruki-murakami-02-17-20" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></p>
<p>In this post series I am discussing three Haruki Murakami-related works:</p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> (Soft Skull, 2020), an examination of the English-language publication of Murakami's books from his first novella through his international breakthrough <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Jay Rubin's <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i> (Harvill, 2002/Vintage 2005), a survey of Murakami's life and work up through the publication of <i>Umibe no Kafuka</i> (Kafka on the Shore, 2002/2005).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021), the Academy-Award-winning film based on two Murakami short stories published in the collection <i>Men Without Women</i> (2014).</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIV07ZOL8lJoDcGqD4aGfc6g1KoKGma4_azs4ujtZHwLV6O3KpRYPsddiA6He60hv8dq7YjMnd1VL82LfvyMDuOqebuRdc-3DL8iuSHXzQIGfVQiWkaUvzcshW5DSf0pCDiAvLcgy7f5exQ_9Y_kOzvN7J6zz-bTAj11rJxim8Wz3T_lTZR3OhBRa8/s695/wind-up-bird-chronicle-haruki-murakamii_450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="450" height="695" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIV07ZOL8lJoDcGqD4aGfc6g1KoKGma4_azs4ujtZHwLV6O3KpRYPsddiA6He60hv8dq7YjMnd1VL82LfvyMDuOqebuRdc-3DL8iuSHXzQIGfVQiWkaUvzcshW5DSf0pCDiAvLcgy7f5exQ_9Y_kOzvN7J6zz-bTAj11rJxim8Wz3T_lTZR3OhBRa8/s16000/wind-up-bird-chronicle-haruki-murakamii_450.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover design: Chip Kidd. Image source: <a href="https://chipkidd.com/home/cover-haruki-murakami-the-wind-up-bird-chronicle-book/" target="_blank">Chip Kidd</a></p>
<p><i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> was written during Murakami's time as a visiting lecturer at Princeton University in the early 1990s. Perhaps distance invited reflection: it is the Murakami work that engages most directly with the legacy of Japan's imperial wars in Asia.</p>
<p>At the opening of the novel, the situation is familiar to readers of the short story "The Wind-Up Bird and Tuesday's Women": the aimless (but this time not nameless) 30-year-old narrator Toru Okada is sent by his wife Kumiko in search of their missing cat, who disappeared more than a week ago. It will come as no surprise to the reader that the cat has a larger significance:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>"I want you to understand one thing," said Kumiko. "That cat is very important to me. Or should I say to <i>us</i>. We found it the week after we got married. Together. You remember?" (p. 47)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>That the symbol of their union has gone missing is a strong clue to the reader, if not to Toru, that his marriage of six years is in trouble. Additional clues include the new earrings his wife is wearing, along with the unfamiliar perfume she's dabbed behind her ears. And the strongest clue: after returning increasingly late from work for the past few weeks, one night Kumiko does not return home at all.</p>
<p>Now Toru is searching for both his cat and his wife. His wife had told him to be sure to search for the cat at a vacant house at the dead end of the alley that runs behind their home. (The metaphors are multiplying.) At that house he encounters a neighbor, the boldly curious and precociously provocative 16-year-old May Kasahara. <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> continues the pattern in Murakami's fiction of the semi-autobiographical narrator seemingly being irresistible to women of all ages, including an anonymous phone-sex caller, an about-to-be-married colleague who worked at the same law firm, and the psychic Creta Kano. May voices a question the reader may also be entertaining: "Just how many women do you have hanging around you?" (p. 215).</p>
<p>In the yard of the vacant house May shows Toru a dry well (another metaphor, of course; wells and subterranean spaces recur throughout Murakami's fiction). After his wife disappears Toru descends to the bottom of the well to think things through. Sitting at the bottom of the well he falls asleep, and May pulls up the rope ladder, stranding him in darkness. Memories of his marriage, encounters with an alternate reality, connections with the Japanese occupation of Manchuria, and a dawning realization that his wife's brother is not only unlikeable but actively malign, will follow.</p>
<p><i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> includes elements familiar from previous Murakami works: it features a lone protagonist on a quest who crosses the barrier into an alternate reality and does battle with agents of evil in that world and this one. But the Manchuria sections show Murakami depicting the futility, waste, and horror of war with a descriptive power and moral complexity that he had rarely deployed before. The Manchuria sections portray a universe where all available choices are abhorrent, and yet choices still must be made.</p>
<p>The text<i> </i>was significantly shortened in its published U.S. version (just as <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland</i> had been). Knopf had contracted for a 125,000 word novel. When translator Jay Rubin turned in a manuscript that was 290,000 words long (the book was published in three volumes in Japan), he was asked to cut. Rubin estimates that ultimately he removed about 25,000 words, requiring the rearrangement of some of the material.</p>
<p>Murakami's former editor at Kodansha, Elmer Luke, told David Karashima that "the prose—of the translation, that is—had no tightness, it was flabby, and the novel went on and on and on far too long. . .It should have been cut more" (p. 239). Even with Rubin's cuts the hardback is over 600 pages long. But Murakami's editor at Knopf, Gary Fisketjon, saw the novel as "a giant step forward. . .in terms of scale and scope and ambition" (Karashima, p. 232). [1]</p>
<p>The novel's length and structural complexity—it includes flashbacks/memories, events that happen in a dreamlike alternate reality, lengthy stories (which have their own flashbacks) told by several characters to the protagonist, as well as interpolated transcriptions of letters, a newspaper article and a computer chat session—did not daunt reviewers. With the exception of Michiko Kakutani of the <i>New York Times</i>, the book received strong to glowing reviews, and garnered a readership for Murakami among other influential writers such as David Mitchell, Junot Diaz and Pico Iyer. The Japanese-American writer and critic Roland Kelts said of the novel,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>"For anyone who'd read Murakami before, the book felt like the author had marshalled his talents and concentrated them into one dazzling performance. For readers new to Murakami, he was a portal to another universe, another way of looking at and experiencing both the isolation of urban anomie in Tokyo and the repressed, unprocessed memories of the war in Asia." (Quoted in Karashima, p. 234)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Sales of the hardback doubled in comparison to his earlier books, to 14,000. Even more importantly, his paperback backlist titles also surged. Fisketjon noted to Karashima that "each and every one of his books in Vintage paperback sold more copies year after year. . .This demonstrated that if a reader enjoyed his or her first Murakami, he or she would then read another and another, and introduce friends to his work, and then they would do the same. I can't overestimate how important this is, and how rare" (p. 233). Murakami's international success, so long sought by his translators and editors, was now established.</p>
<p>In writing this survey of Murakami's English-language translations from the first English Library titles through <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i>, I've drawn heavily on two works:</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHmI6Wp-OfgA3R8BFybrSvovyaBo405sTXf4jHJKtumbQ9lo1kFZQVe0MjE-HkF9qwy_YFijen_JuPM0nnnzIWzTYNQap6vqWJRaz-F9ZfOagE2nPunZqod7t6dVTZZsJ1lN6xqxgUPclYrAdvNrW7dVC1pmoyq9v-_P99MZq1wenuwKWay1HjgGu/s720/Karashima_480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami by David Karashima" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="675" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHmI6Wp-OfgA3R8BFybrSvovyaBo405sTXf4jHJKtumbQ9lo1kFZQVe0MjE-HkF9qwy_YFijen_JuPM0nnnzIWzTYNQap6vqWJRaz-F9ZfOagE2nPunZqod7t6dVTZZsJ1lN6xqxgUPclYrAdvNrW7dVC1pmoyq9v-_P99MZq1wenuwKWay1HjgGu/s16000/Karashima_480.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://softskull.com/books/who-were-reading-when-were-reading-murakami/" target="_blank">Soft Skull Press</a></p>
<p>David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> recounts the story of Murakami's first appearances in English translation. It features interviews with many of the main figures involved, with a particular focus on his first translator, Alfred Birnbaum, and the editor with whom Birnbaum worked closely, Elmer Luke. Karashima approaches his task journalistically. While this allows the actors in this story to speak for themselves, it also means that Karashima passes virtually no judgments of his own on the relative quality of the translations he covers or on Murakami's original work.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB1BHBfWySkSSX_Htqz3A9QCCmTQ0IicrOXsb_jP8JHPd4L5jzZlhpfV7uuPHvrgq1iRWgXTKnubz_rFX-LNIcIAvWdLvk-Q3l5A5K36tUhubsG5mxz7BKDdx5QY58LkN3SF94s02rNzlACq0DQLN6EoLS9NtBG_SrgztJGNIMDaDAmXLWDKxPvVy/s757/musicofwords_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="480" height="710" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB1BHBfWySkSSX_Htqz3A9QCCmTQ0IicrOXsb_jP8JHPd4L5jzZlhpfV7uuPHvrgq1iRWgXTKnubz_rFX-LNIcIAvWdLvk-Q3l5A5K36tUhubsG5mxz7BKDdx5QY58LkN3SF94s02rNzlACq0DQLN6EoLS9NtBG_SrgztJGNIMDaDAmXLWDKxPvVy/s16000/musicofwords_480.jpeg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://jylkoh.com/2012/01/09/book-review-1q84-by-haruki-murakami/" target="_blank">The Fictional Julie Koh</a></p>
<p>For judgments (almost always highly positive, verging on the uncritical) about Murakami's work, and comments (sometimes misguided) on the relative quality of translations, readers can turn to Jay Rubin's <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i>. Rubin offers a translator's perspective on the many issues involved in "carrying over" Murakami's work from Japanese to English. He also provides interpretive summaries of the books through <i>Kafka on the Shore</i> (2002/2005), and a valuable bibliography (now, of course, in need of updating).</p>
<p><b>Murakami in English, three decades on</b></p>
<p>My own re-encounter with Murakami's earlier fiction has left me with mixed feelings. When I first discovered him in my 20s through Alfred Birnbaum's translations, I was drawn to what I've described elsewhere as his "self-sufficient but emotionally incomplete protagonists, indifferent to or alienated from worldly measures of success, who find themselves unexpectedly thrust into the role of detective when they come into contact with a dreamlike alternate reality." I found his conversational prose style very readable (thanks to Birnbaum) and the alternate worlds he created brilliantly imaginative at times. He became one of my favorite contemporary writers, and I eagerly anticipated each new release.</p>
<p>Three decades later, I still perceive all those strengths; at the same time, I now find that the symbolism can be heavy-handed, the moral lessons banal, and the available roles for women often limited. The novels can also be contradictory; as an example, while they critique consumerism, they also celebrate it: brand names, especially of high-end stereo equipment and imported whiskey, are often specified. And my responses have also been complicated by the disappointments of some of his later novels, particularly the 900-page behemoth <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2012/04/haruki-murakamis-1q84.html" target="_blank"><b><i>1Q84</i></b></a> (2008-10/2011) and his next novel, <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2014/12/favorites-of-2014-books.html#colorless" target="_blank"><b><i>Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage</i></b></a> (2013/2014). </p>
<p><i>Colorless Tsukuru</i> is, and may remain, the last Murakami novel I've read. I confess that despite the allusion in its title to Mozart and Da Ponte's <i>Don Giovanni</i>, I haven't been tempted to read <i>Killing Commendatore</i> (2018), and I also doubt that I will pick up the forthcoming <i>The City and Its Uncertain Walls</i>. "Lately I've begun to wonder," I wrote in my post on <i>Colorless Tsukuru</i>, "whether I wasn't really a fan of his early translator, Alfred Birnbaum." It's a question which may not be resolvable.</p>
<p><b>Murakami on film</b></p>
<p>Murakami has long attracted filmmakers. The first film adaptation of his fiction, <i>Kaze no uta o kike</i> (<i>Hear the Wind Sing</i>), came out as early as 1982. Seven additional feature films, eight short films and a TV series episode based on various short stories and novels have followed. As a coda to this series, in my next post I will look a recent feature film adapted from Murakami's short stories.</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank"><b>Film adaptation</b></a>: Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021)</p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank"><b>The English Library novels</b></a>: <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank"><b>The first U.S. publications</b></a>: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> (1982/1989) and <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World</i> (1985/1991)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The transition</b></a>: <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> (1980-91/1993) and <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> (1988/1994)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/01/haruki-murakami-part-6-manga-stories.html" target="_blank"><b>Comics adaptation</b></a>: Jean-Christophe Deveney and PMGL's <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (2021/2023)</li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol>
<li>Also published within a year or so of Murakami's novel: David Foster Wallace's <i>Infinite Jest</i> (Little, Brown, 1996), Don DeLillo's <i>Underworld</i> (Scribner, 1997), and Thomas Pynchon's <i>Mason & Dixon</i> (Holt, 1997), all of which were even longer than <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i>. Big books (by men, at least) were in fashion.
</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-42559903497705042292023-10-01T14:50:00.013-07:002024-01-07T07:21:55.052-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 3: The transition - short stories and a sequel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNOT30G8qK4Wf9WZ-ZrmB4uMN1XFrx_o5FMuOX7pB04SUbNk0P3Mt4ezry0dcxNPf8CaD4iY5AuNMzU_avHrDx43SepUYGXpAXDDkZJJqMxIC0gTO1vAMeotbAnHr3xoFRrnl35F0Q0WADy20DBXm5AvN6H1pDdU2Lb3PdVN_uMxxMzYxujvqOkGZ/s720/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNOT30G8qK4Wf9WZ-ZrmB4uMN1XFrx_o5FMuOX7pB04SUbNk0P3Mt4ezry0dcxNPf8CaD4iY5AuNMzU_avHrDx43SepUYGXpAXDDkZJJqMxIC0gTO1vAMeotbAnHr3xoFRrnl35F0Q0WADy20DBXm5AvN6H1pDdU2Lb3PdVN_uMxxMzYxujvqOkGZ/s16000/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Haruki Murakami. Photo credit: Kevin Trageser / Redux. Image source: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/haruki-murakami-02-17-20" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></p>
<p>In this post series I am discussing three Haruki Murakami-related works:</p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> (Soft Skull, 2020), an examination of the English-language publication of Murakami's books from his first novella through his international breakthrough <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Jay Rubin's <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i> (Harvill, 2002/Vintage 2005), a survey of Murakami's life and work up through the publication of <i>Umibe no Kafuka</i> (Kafka on the Shore, 2002/2005).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021), the Academy-Award-winning film based on two Murakami short stories published in the collection <i>Men Without Women</i> (2014).</li>
</ul>
<p>For a discussion of the three Murakami novels that were published in the Kodansha English Library series for Japanese readers learning English,
please see <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank">Haruki Murakami, part 1: The English Library novels</a></b>. For a discussion of the first two Murakami novels published in the U.S., please see <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank">Haruki Murakami, part 2: The hard-boiled wonderland</a></b>.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWOMPtU7pUoomfdz3kzWvfwxvwV-N1JfBICCfW2g1leTQmC6_PpJSI_pFtn15fCcmAnGHp_WSrZ2SqM2y4pI4vUSd3Yg0D4igK5wJvrKclN_x7ioB3-j13-LVtXXipgjmJw-WsRLrdoAPwFG6UGeCNH4sr7NuwkTr01R23LDLDRwJlsAEidLW2KbV/s658/elephant-vanishes_450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="450" height="658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWOMPtU7pUoomfdz3kzWvfwxvwV-N1JfBICCfW2g1leTQmC6_PpJSI_pFtn15fCcmAnGHp_WSrZ2SqM2y4pI4vUSd3Yg0D4igK5wJvrKclN_x7ioB3-j13-LVtXXipgjmJw-WsRLrdoAPwFG6UGeCNH4sr7NuwkTr01R23LDLDRwJlsAEidLW2KbV/s16000/elephant-vanishes_450.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover design: Chip Kidd. Image source: <a href="https://www.boekmeter.nl/book/8511" target="_blank">BoekMeter</a></p>
<p>After the U.S. publication of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> in 1989, Haruki Murakami had begun to have short stories published in <i>The New Yorker</i>: Birnbaum's translation of "TV People" in the issue of 10 September 1990, and "The Wind-Up Bird and Tuesday's Women," later to become the first chapter of <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997), on 26 November 1990. Over the next two years three more stories would follow, two translated by Jay Rubin ("The Elephant Vanishes," 18 November 1991, and "Sleep," 30 March 1992) and one by Philip Gabriel ("Barn Burning," 2 November 1992).</p><p>The <i>New Yorker</i> stories interested the U.S. publisher Alfred Knopf, and Murakami, disappointed in his sales with Kodansha, soon came to an agreement with the American publisher. As Murakami's next book for the U.S. market, Knopf decided to issue a collection of seventeen short stories, <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> (1993), which included the five <i>New Yorker</i> stories ("Barn Burning" in a retranslation by Birnbaum), five that appeared elsewhere (<i>Granta, The [Mobil] Magazine, Playboy</i>, <i>The Threepenny Review</i>, and <i>Zyzzyva</i>), and seven that had never before been published in English. In the order of their appearance in English, here are summaries of a half-dozen stories from <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i>:</p>
<ul>
<li><b>"The Kangaroo Communiqué"</b> (first English publication: <i>Zyzzyva</i>, Spring 1988, translated by J. Philip Gabriel; retranslated by Birnbaum for <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i>):</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">A rambling communication about kangaroos quickly veers into disturbingly personal territory. It turns out to be a transcript of a cassette tape recorded by a department store worker in response to a customer's letter of complaint. Between expressing his feelings about kangaroos, rejecting the complaint, and confessing his desire to sleep with the customer (whom he has never met), the narrator says, "Somehow I've talked too much about myself. But if you think about it, it can't be helped. 'Cause I don't know anything about you." This was the introduction to Murakami's deadpan humor for American readers, preceding the publication of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> by more than a year.</p>
<ul>
<li><b>"TV People" </b>(first English publication: <i>The New Yorker</i>, 10 September 1990, translated by Birnbaum)</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">On an aimless Sunday evening, the miniature TV People appear at the narrator's apartment and set up a television set in his living room. Once the TV is in place, the narrator can't focus on anything other than the screen, even though it displays no picture. His wife does not notice the rearrangement of the room, the TV, or the TV People. The next day at work the narrator sees the TV People again, but his co-workers don't respond to his comments about them. When he returns to his apartment at the end of the day, his wife is gone. The TV is still there, and the TV People seem to have multiplied. "Shame about your wife," they say to him. The narrator looks around: has he begun to shrink?<br /></p>
<ul>
<li><b>"The Elephant Vanishes"</b> (first English publication: <i>The New Yorker</i>, 18 November 1991)</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">As the title suggests, a parable about memory. One day it's discovered that a suburban town's captive elephant and his keeper have disappeared. There are searches of the nearby area, news conferences by the mayor, calls for an investigation by the political opposition, and general consternation among the citizens of the town. As time passes, though, news stories stop appearing, and "people seem to have forgotten that their town once owned an elephant." But the narrator saw something strange the night of the disappearance. . .</p>
<ul>
<li><b>"The Second Bakery Attack"</b> (first English publication: <i>Playboy</i>, January 1992, translated by Jay Rubin)</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">A young married couple wake up hungry in the middle of the night, but their refrigerator is empty. The husband-narrator (Boku, "I") recalls the time roughly a decade ago when he and a college friend (the Rat?) decided to completely reject the capitalist system. Although they refused to work out of principle, they still needed to eat and had no money. The logical thing to do was to rob a bakery. But the baker they chose was a Wagner fanatic, and offered them all the bread they could eat if they would listen to the overtures to <i>Tannhäuser</i> and <i>The Flying Dutchman</i>—perhaps 25 minutes of music. They put their knives away, dutifully sat and listened, and took their bread home.</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">That experience was a turning point: afterwards Boku went back to classes, graduated, went to work in a law firm and got married. On the surface, he is living a complacent bourgeois existence. But his wife senses that beneath the placid surface of their marriage linger repressed urges, manifested by their sudden hunger, that may erupt at any time. Her solution: "Attack another bakery. Right now." And, to her husband's astonishment, she brings out a shotgun and two ski masks. "Why my wife owned a shotgun, I had no idea. Or ski masks. Neither of us had ever skied. But she didn't explain and I didn't ask. Married life is weird, I felt."</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpy-7nNiJTxo6EZ5ZvYvx4b9IShU4jt_IHXJ3hQNoGtm_Epsp0PSTqYrLjpnFSnPoGWyuTyG4OOxoyOg2myQutDjufUa2-6H0KWOSMT4WAFhUnJvieOJVJWp2SO253S5ri2X5h7Widxzt_VysE39MC2_QIUyskG4dfHRswmp-bE6nFEm38T1TWOBB/s600/Second_Bakery_Attack_Playboy_1992_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpy-7nNiJTxo6EZ5ZvYvx4b9IShU4jt_IHXJ3hQNoGtm_Epsp0PSTqYrLjpnFSnPoGWyuTyG4OOxoyOg2myQutDjufUa2-6H0KWOSMT4WAFhUnJvieOJVJWp2SO253S5ri2X5h7Widxzt_VysE39MC2_QIUyskG4dfHRswmp-bE6nFEm38T1TWOBB/s16000/Second_Bakery_Attack_Playboy_1992_600.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">"'Thirty Big Macs. For takeout.' The manager looked into the muzzle of the shotgun and resigned himself to fate." Illustration for "The Second Bakery Attack" by Kinuko Y. Craft, <i>Playboy</i>, January 1992, pp. 130-131. Image courtesy of the University of California's Northern Regional Library Facility.</p>
<ul>
<li><b>"Sleep"</b> (first English publication: <i>The New Yorker</i>, 30 March 1992, translated by Rubin)</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">Of Murakami's short stories, this is perhaps the eeriest and most unsettling (and that's saying a good deal). A first-person female narrator (uncommon in Murakami's fiction) discovers that she is unable to sleep. This is not ordinary restlessness or insomnia: at the beginning of the story she states that she has gone without sleep for 17 days straight.<br /></p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">Her sleeplessness seems to have released something within her. Although she continues to efficiently manage the routine tasks demanded of her by her household, children, and husband, she indulges in guilty pleasures she last experienced in high school: reading <i>Anna Karenina</i> and gorging herself on chocolate (something frowned on by her dentist husband). "Where had the old me gone, the one who used to read a book as though possessed by it?" she asks herself. "What had those days—and that almost abnormally intense passion—meant to me?"</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">But as her sleeplessness continues, the memories from her past seem to fade: "All the memories I have from the time before I stopped sleeping seem to be moving away with accelerating speed. It feels so strange, as if the me who used to go to sleep every night is not the real me, and the memories from back then are not really mine. This is how people change."</p>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">She has begun to take long nighttime drives as a self-soothing activity. That night she parks down by the waterfront, and is staring at the water when men approach out of the darkness. As the story ends, they are rocking the car, trying to turn it over as she remains trapped inside. . .</p>
<ul>
<li><b>"Barn Burning"</b> (first English publication: <i>The New Yorker</i>, 2 November 1992, translated by Gabriel; retranslated for <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> by Birnbaum)</li>
</ul>
<p style="margin-left: 40px;">The narrator becomes enmeshed in the lives of a beautiful young woman and her well-to-do boyfriend. One day the boyfriend confesses to the narrator that every few months he sets fire to a barn. He makes sure that no people or animals are hurt, but feels that run-down barns are just waiting to be torched. His revelation changes the narrator's perspective. After their conversation, he looks at every barn and weighs its potential for burning, but can never successfully identify the boyfriend's next target. And the urge to burn barns becomes contagious: "Sometimes, I could swear he was trying to get me to burn a barn. . .I'll grant you, there were times that, well, as long as I was waiting around for him to do the deed, I half considered striking the match myself" (p. 146). In 2018 this story was made into an Academy-Award-nominated film, <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wi6Kw7V8gXk" target="_blank">Burning</a></i>, by Korean writer-director Chang-dong Lee.</p>
<p>Of the seventeen stories, nine translations were by Birnbaum and eight were by Rubin. At the time of publication Birnbaum was living in Mexico, had just begun a degree program in Burmese Studies at the University of London, and would soon move to Myanmar with his wife. He was unable to commit to translating Murakami's next novel; in an email to Karashima, Birnbaum called this period in his life "a troubled, lost, disruptive passage" (Karashima, p. 203). After Birnbaum withdrew, Rubin became the obvious choice to translate the next book Murakami would publish with Knopf, <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1997).</p>
<p>From the point of view of sales, publishing a short-story collection was a curious choice, as in the U.S. they generally sell less well than novels. And indeed, Murakami's sales didn't increase<i>: The Elephant Vanishes</i> sold only about as well as <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland</i>. Murakami was again disappointed: "Whenever I published a book in Japan I was selling at least 100,000 copies, so I thought 10,000 copies was low" (Karashima, p. 181. Karashima reports that the hardback actually sold 5,500 copies). But perhaps by publishing a short story collection Knopf intended to signal that Murakami was a Serious Writer. If so, that strategy may have paid off later on.</p>
<p>In the meantime, an odd situation was unfolding: Murakami's old publisher and translator had one last project in the pipeline.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxuj6dZJKcIT-rQAVntwGlKZzN0vw2yt4RME-59CqTZ1GVzWpkfMdn3ass_9A-K8RL54KwbtFXccLbV-33NPrWmeMDdQgaDVL65nYcbXlYI7PKgwqQDp_N-YTqAndr-sBcQhJIc19x96lP3C_x79mysxS_mice4aysWd-mnngSI29l8xM070lemTa/s688/dance-dance-dance-haruki-murakami_450.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxuj6dZJKcIT-rQAVntwGlKZzN0vw2yt4RME-59CqTZ1GVzWpkfMdn3ass_9A-K8RL54KwbtFXccLbV-33NPrWmeMDdQgaDVL65nYcbXlYI7PKgwqQDp_N-YTqAndr-sBcQhJIc19x96lP3C_x79mysxS_mice4aysWd-mnngSI29l8xM070lemTa/s16000/dance-dance-dance-haruki-murakami_450.jpeg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover design: Maki Sasaki. Image source: <a href="https://www.raptisrarebooks.com/product/dance-dance-dance-haruki-murakami-first-edition-signed-rare/" target="_blank">Raptis Rare Books</a></p>
<p>Murakami's sixth novel <i>Dance Dance Dance</i>, originally published as <i>Dansu Dansu Dansu</i> in 1988, is a sequel to <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>. [1] The narrator (Boku) returns to the Dolphin Hotel in Sapporo five years after the events of the earlier novel. But the old hotel is gone; in its place is a sleek new 26-story high-rise, "l'Hôtel Dauphin," a product of the Bubble Economy. Boku discovers that all the land in the district slated for redevelopment had been purchased by a single company well in advance of the public disclosure of the plan.</p>
<blockquote><p>That's advanced capitalism for you: The player making the maximum capital investment gets the maximum critical information in order to reap the maximum desired profit with maximum capital efficiency—and nobody bats an eye. . .Fairness has got nothing to do with it.</p></blockquote>
<blockquote><p>. . .Everything is rigged, tied into that massive capital web, and beyond this web there's another web. Nobody's going anywhere. You throw a rock and it'll come right back at you. (pp. 54-55)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The high-tech hotel seems to have obliterated all traces of the old Dolphin. One night, though, the hotel elevator stops at a cold, pitch-black floor that seems to be a slice of an alternate reality in which the old hotel may still exist. On that floor Boku encounters the Sheep Man. It will turn out that he's not the only one to have done so: Yumiyoshi, a receptionist at the hotel, and Yuki, a 13-year-old girl with psychic powers who is a guest there, are also taken by the elevator to this strange floor.</p>
<p>Both women will become involved in Boku's search for the Girl with the Perfect Ears who left him at the old Dolphin Hotel without a goodbye five years previously. That search will lead Boku to Yuki's father, who is a bestselling writer and TV personality named Hiraku Makimura (an anagram of Haruki Murakami, and perhaps Murakami's vision of a possible alternate life he might have been tempted to lead). It will also reconnect him with Riyoichi Gotanda, a former high school classmate who is now a well-known actor. Through Gotanda, Boku will uncover a series of killings whose victims are Tokyo call girls, and through Yuki he will learn the fate of the Girl with the Perfect Ears. (In <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> she was nameless; here we learn that she called herself Kiki, which means "listening" in Japanese.)<br /></p><p> The title of the novel comes from something the Sheep Man tells Boku:</p>
<blockquote><p>"Yougottadance. Aslongasthemusicplays. Yougottadance. Don'teventhinkwhy. . .Dance. Danceyourbest, likeyourlifedependedonit. Yougottadance." (pp. 86-87)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The Sheep Man also tells him that the place of their encounter, a room on the alternate 16th floor of the hotel, is somehow Boku's:</p>
<blockquote><p>"Youreallyarepartofhere, really. Alwayshavebeen, alwayswillbe. Itallstartshere, itallendshere. Thisisyourplace. It'stheknot. It'stiedtoeverything. . .Thingsyoulost. Thingsyou'regonnalose. Everything. Here'swhereitalltiestogether." (p. 83)</p>
</blockquote><p>The choice to translate the Sheep Man's speech without spaces between words was Birnbaum's, and was continued from <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>. Written Japanese does not generally have spaces between words, and so in the original Japanese editions the Sheep Man speaks like all the other characters. However, Birnbaum told Karashima,</p>
<blockquote><p>"I couldn't imagine a crazy guy in a sheep costume talking normal[ly]. I saw him as a genuinely original quirky character, hence a chance to inject a bit of zany cartoonish humor (Murakami included a funny drawing of him, after all [see <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank">part 2</a></b>]). I wanted something close to baaaaa yet still intelligible." (Karashima, p. 186)</p>
</blockquote>
<p><i>Dance Dance Dance</i> did not break any new stylistic ground for Murakami, and of course it revisited characters and situations from <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, which had been published five years before. It also continued Murakami's tendency to have his authorial stand-in Boku make pronouncements that thud on the mind's ear, at least in English. As an example, Boku tells Yuki, "As time goes on, you'll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn't, doesn't. Time solves most things. And what time can't solve, you have to solve yourself" (p. 312).</p>
<p>Perhaps as a result, <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> did not win Murakami a large number of new readers. That would change three years later with the publication of his international breathrough.</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-4-wind-up-bird-chronicle.html" target="_blank"><b>International breakthrough</b></a>: <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i></p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank"><b>The English Library novels</b></a>: <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank"><b>The first U.S. publications</b></a>: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> (1982/1989) and <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World</i> (1985/1991)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank"><b>Film adaptation</b></a>: Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/01/haruki-murakami-part-6-manga-stories.html" target="_blank"><b>Comics adaptation</b></a>: Jean-Christophe Deveney and PMGL's <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (2021/2023)</li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol>
<li>Curiously, although it is the sequel to the third volume in the so-called "Trilogy of the Rat" (<i>Hear the Wind Sing</i>, <i>Pinball, 1973</i>, and <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>), <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> is not considered to belong to the series, perhaps because the Rat does not appear.</li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-55045868274498677612023-09-25T07:45:00.008-07:002024-01-07T07:21:22.100-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 2: The hard-boiled wonderland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWqqfj4kYcc0mZRLDPfFTQ8-hV7aKuxH9KnEwkOBB0Q9wEJqlW1s373FnaW_784GRVYpfsTEz6Cs2FxPSYMUoqJJVXTNvHivdjz5JRSZtnWE4jk0Y4RNTasUcVS2mTx9UjJ761DUmIIwIzMk6Z83RDzrEHfN4Stl8R7bpyzDwjoLUYbRpDWohgYqK/s720/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Haruki Murakami" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWqqfj4kYcc0mZRLDPfFTQ8-hV7aKuxH9KnEwkOBB0Q9wEJqlW1s373FnaW_784GRVYpfsTEz6Cs2FxPSYMUoqJJVXTNvHivdjz5JRSZtnWE4jk0Y4RNTasUcVS2mTx9UjJ761DUmIIwIzMk6Z83RDzrEHfN4Stl8R7bpyzDwjoLUYbRpDWohgYqK/s16000/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" wisth="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Haruki Murakami. Photo credit: Kevin Trageser / Redux. Image source: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/haruki-murakami-02-17-20" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></p>
<p>In this post series I am discussing three Haruki Murakami-related works:</p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> (Soft Skull, 2020), an examination of the English-language publication of Murakami's books from his first novella through his international breakthrough <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Jay Rubin's <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i> (Harvill, 2002/Vintage 2005), a survey of Murakami's life and work up through the publication of <i>Umibe no Kafuka</i> (Kafka on the Shore, 2002/2005).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021), the Academy-Award-winning film based on two Murakami short stories published in the collection <i>Men Without Women</i> (2014).</li>
</ul>
<p>For a discussion of the Murakami novels that were published in the Kodansha English Library series for Japanese readers learning English, please see <b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank">Haruki Murakami, part 1: The English Library novels</a></b>.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRxOwnm3w-HnLguzRJExuBnu5p49DVUaP8zkDz7gN_6XcGdXHtGqV1jlIJV_drwEPfj2DDATcMxzFoOJK3qPuzv_nrFjk3Z08qUeXCZD9s38yni3R90BMski-ceCe-LL8gYMhvA9aOdfjJluO9wNAX51H19YK4YnwQM8Y7hk1sjJvvX5vXpXaXA7v/s668/wild-sheep-chase_450.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of A Wild Sheep Chase" border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="450" height="668" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRxOwnm3w-HnLguzRJExuBnu5p49DVUaP8zkDz7gN_6XcGdXHtGqV1jlIJV_drwEPfj2DDATcMxzFoOJK3qPuzv_nrFjk3Z08qUeXCZD9s38yni3R90BMski-ceCe-LL8gYMhvA9aOdfjJluO9wNAX51H19YK4YnwQM8Y7hk1sjJvvX5vXpXaXA7v/s16000/wild-sheep-chase_450.jpeg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover design: Shigeo Okamoto. Image source: <a href="https://www.raptisrarebooks.com/product/a-wild-sheep-chase-haruki-murakami-first-edition-signed/" target="_blank">Raptis Rare Books</a></p>
<p>After translating <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989) for the Kodansha English Library, Alfred Birnbaum was finally able to work on the novel that had originally inspired him to translate Murakami. The title <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> is not a literal translation of Murakami's original Japanese title <i>Hitsuji o meguru bōken</i> (which means something like "An Adventure Involving Sheep"), but instead is Birnbaum's inspiration, recalling the English expression "a wild goose chase."</p>
<p>This is an approach that characterizes Birnbaum's translations in general: he is more concerned with rendering Murakami's writing in a vivid way that will engage American and UK readers than with strict fidelity to the Japanese original. And with this book he was working with a new editor, Elmer Luke, who had been hired (along with several others) at Kodansha with the goal of increasing U.S. sales. <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, Murakami's third novel, had originally been intended for the English Library series. But with Luke's backing, Kodansha decided to publish it in hardback in the U.S., where it came out in 1989.</p>
<p><i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> features many tropes that recur in Murakami's later books: the interaction between an alternate world and everyday reality; a laconic, whiskey-drinking protagonist who becomes enmeshed in a mystery and reluctantly takes on the role of detective; and traces of the lingering but unacknowledged traumas of World War II. I had read fiction by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Kōbō Abe, and Junichirō Tanizaki, but Murakami's narrative voice (at least, as rendered into English by Birnbaum) seemed more like a contemporary cross between Kurt Vonnegut and Raymond Chandler.</p>
<p>The plot of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> defies easy summary; Rubin's synopsis takes a dozen pages. But here's my attempt in a few paragraphs: Five years after the action of <i>Pinball, 1973</i>, the protagonist Boku ("I") is 29 (Murakami's age in 1978), is divorced after four years of marriage, is running a small advertising agency, and is currently living with a girlfriend who has perfect ears. Boku's college friend, the Rat, has disappeared but has kept in touch periodically by mail. The last communication Boku received from the Rat contained a photograph of sheep and a request that he make the photo public in some way. Boku uses the photo in an ad, and shortly afterward is visited by a sinister man dressed in black. He is acting for his shadowy Boss, who has a keen interest in a particular sheep with a star-shaped mark on its back that appears in the photo.</p>
<p>Boku and his girlfriend set off to find the Rat, a journey that takes them to the northern island of Hokkaidō. There at the girlfriend's suggestion they check into the Dolphin Hotel, where they meet the "Sheep Professor." The old man reveals that in the mid-1930s he was briefly possessed by the malevolent spirit of the sheep with the star-shaped mark; it soon moved on to other hosts. Boku finds his way to the Rat's cottage, where he encounters the "Sheep Man," who wears a self-fashioned sheepskin suit.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVkq4yYkQgzWvByg_uVocHR-IXDS56srrIGuEP8ASjShLN28Ynl4PhAt2eBLDkP4y5Lol-vGYzQQs_lJJlUx0G20x7c-DWeoV4-msbiOvfUk2t2NdoLuE3rl3JvzmpTEP5Kw-6s4CejD84UeabSREXO_lYv8ZiVJFETiIhUBERDeg_NRUWx8h6n1h/s568/Sheep_Man.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Sheep Man" border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="500" height="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVkq4yYkQgzWvByg_uVocHR-IXDS56srrIGuEP8ASjShLN28Ynl4PhAt2eBLDkP4y5Lol-vGYzQQs_lJJlUx0G20x7c-DWeoV4-msbiOvfUk2t2NdoLuE3rl3JvzmpTEP5Kw-6s4CejD84UeabSREXO_lYv8ZiVJFETiIhUBERDeg_NRUWx8h6n1h/s16000/Sheep_Man.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Illustration of the Sheep Man by Haruki Murakami, from <i>Hitsuji o meguru bōken</i>. Image source: <a href="https://web-japan.org/niponica/niponica33/en/feature/feature03.html" target="_blank">Niponica: Discovering Japan</a></p>
<p>Boku decides to wait in the cottage for the Rat; the first night, while he's sleeping, his girlfriend disappears (shades of the twins in <i>Pinball, 1973</i>). Ultimately Boku learns what became of the Rat and the significance of the sheep with the star-shaped mark. (And, indeed, of all the sheep in Japan: they were imported as a domestic source of the wool needed to make winter uniforms for the Japanese Army's invasion of northern China; they are a legacy of Japan's violent imperialist past.)</p>
<p>One reason <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> seems so immediate to English-language readers is due to Birnbaum and Luke's choice to eliminate dates in the novel. It has a prelude set on a specific day in 1970: 25 November, the day that the right-wing writer Yukio Mishima committed <i>seppuku</i> after failing to rouse the Japanese Self-Defense Forces to revolt and restore the Emperor to power, a news story unfolding live on the soundless TV set in the bar where an indifferent Boku is having a beer. The major events of the narrative occur eight years later (the novel itself was originally published in 1982). But in Birnbaum's translation references to specific dates are omitted or obscured. As a result the novel seems to take place in the present day of the reader, rather than in a particular moment in the past.</p>
<p>In <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i>, Murakami translator Jay Rubin suggests that in his view Birnbaum is <i>too</i> free in his translation of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>. He gives as an example Birnbaum's rendering of the title of Chapter 24, "Iwashi no tanjo" (The birth of Sardine) as "One for the Kipper." (The reference is to a cat, who over the course of the chapter acquires the name Kipper, or Sardine.)</p>
<p>Rubin writes, "Set in 1978, the novel should not have contained—and does not in the original—this reference to the famous movie line 'Make it one for the Gipper,' which flourished during the Reagan years after 1980" (p. 189). The actual line from <i>Knute Rockne, All American</i> (1940) is "win just one for the Gipper." Reagan used the catchphrase (without the qualifying "just") in his 1965 autobiography, <i>Where's the Rest of Me?</i>, adopted "Gipper" as his nickname, and used it throughout his political career: a <i>Time</i> magazine article from 29 March 1976 refers to Reagan as "Gipper" three times, including in the headline. Rubin's claim that "one for the Gipper" is a phrase that could not have been known to a narrator in the late 1970s is unfounded.</p>
<p>And there's another connection that might have been known to Birnbaum. The day of the Army-Notre Dame football game in which coach Knute Rockne gave the "win one for the Gipper" halftime speech was 10 November 1928. Newspapers carrying previews of the game also had front-page headlines reporting Hirohito's enthronement ceremonies as the Emperor of Japan.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvr18yCJr_YhFuZ_TlG-D2x5dmhqM9E_uLSQz3Cb0luRa6qNZbx9vkyuXOJ6Rc82nlVkrGRjiNdnR0CHgk0ys6AtyMVk4trMAY2wew0p-2j-4HlLsDukyB0ZZ5TygRz5c9Dsl3x8lXnr-Z5TIdWlAa9Q8KIuNt1Bn6eYxtNvJW2M0kjnfb0GVC2-gf/s600/Hirohito_crowning_10_Nov_1928_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Newspaper headlines from 10 November 1925" border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvr18yCJr_YhFuZ_TlG-D2x5dmhqM9E_uLSQz3Cb0luRa6qNZbx9vkyuXOJ6Rc82nlVkrGRjiNdnR0CHgk0ys6AtyMVk4trMAY2wew0p-2j-4HlLsDukyB0ZZ5TygRz5c9Dsl3x8lXnr-Z5TIdWlAa9Q8KIuNt1Bn6eYxtNvJW2M0kjnfb0GVC2-gf/s16000/Hirohito_crowning_10_Nov_1928_600.jpg" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Front page of the Taunton (Mass.) <i>Daily Gazette</i>, 10 November 1928. Image source: <a href="https://www.rarenewspapers.com/view/633274" target="_blank">Timothy Hughes Rare & Early Newspapers</a></p>
<p>It was under Hirohito's rule, of course, that Japan's wars of imperial conquest in Asia and the Pacific were waged. Since the star-backed sheep represents the violent, nationalistic elements that remain present but hidden in Japanese society, Birnbaum's reference to the Gipper, and thus through historical association to Hirohito's accession, seems perfectly apposite and historically resonant.</p>
<p><i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> received many good reviews (my initial interest in the novel must have been sparked by one) and sold a respectable 8500 copies, but it was just the beginning. Birnbaum and Luke began searching for a follow-up. Although in 1988 Murakami had written a sequel to <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, <i>Dansu dansu dansu</i> (Dance Dance Dance), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> had been a bestseller in both its original Japanese and its English Library editions, neither was the next novel selected. Luke thought that <i>Norwegian Wood</i>'s coming-of-age story was "too Japanese" to be the next Murakami book English-language readers encountered. And <i>Dansu Dansu Dansu</i> probably would not expand his readership beyond those who had already liked <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>.</p>
<p>Instead Birnbaum and Luke decided on Murakami's fourth novel, <i>Sekai no owari to Hādo-boirudo Wandārando</i> (The End of the World and Hard-Boiled Wonderland, 1985), which was longer and, with its parallel-worlds plot, even more complex than <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGGdtXb3ER8gwe7aWbZyABhS6fh6h_K59FA2Co397WoqS_ylh91L4DASDrBFZVEBb1KMJF7BWcZBLloGGcXjKGNeqUhbVjv1ZYwJBojRBIYSYbltcubYCLREThknPLVMQ1bOvbDQanfSceRhsaGu-lPY358alA5KIhA8JR5UXUyMLya9n8F7Y4ka-/s684/hardboiled-wonderland_450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover of Hard-Boiled Wonderland" border="0" data-original-height="684" data-original-width="450" height="684" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGGdtXb3ER8gwe7aWbZyABhS6fh6h_K59FA2Co397WoqS_ylh91L4DASDrBFZVEBb1KMJF7BWcZBLloGGcXjKGNeqUhbVjv1ZYwJBojRBIYSYbltcubYCLREThknPLVMQ1bOvbDQanfSceRhsaGu-lPY358alA5KIhA8JR5UXUyMLya9n8F7Y4ka-/s16000/hardboiled-wonderland_450.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover design: Shigeo Okamoto. Image source: <a href="https://hucandgabetbooks.blogspot.com/2016/08/hard-boiled-wonderland-and-end-of-world.html" target="_blank">Huc & Gabet</a></p>
<p>Again the title was freely translated, this time reversing the order of the two worlds in the original (neither Birnbaum nor Luke wanted the book to be known as <i>End of the World</i>, which they thought was clichéd). Murakami had distinguished the two worlds of the novel in part through the first-person pronouns employed: in the Hard-Boiled Wonderland chapters, which take place in a near-future Tokyo, the narrator uses the more formal <i>watashi</i>; in the End of the World sections, which occur in a dreamlike (or nightmarish) walled Town, the more familiar <i>boku</i>. English, of course, has only one first-person pronoun, "I." Birnbaum chose to render the Hard-Boiled Wonderland chapters in the past tense, and the alternating End of the World chapters in the present tense. (As it will turn out, there is no sense of the past in the End of the World.)</p>
<p>In the biggest change from the Japanese original, Luke estimates that he and Birnbaum cut about a hundred pages of material, much of which relates to the 17-year-old Girl in Pink and her relentless (and graphically explicit) sexual pursuit of the 35-year-old narrator. Luke finds the Girl in Pink material "preposterous almost," and Birnbaum defends their cuts of "an embarrassing amount of unfocused extraneous material" (Karashima pp. 116, 120). Even so, the translation came in at 400 pages, a third longer than <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>.</p>
<p>If <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> adopted aspects of hardboiled crime novels, <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland</i> additionally incorporates elements of cyberpunk and fantasy fiction. Watashi, the sardonic first-person narrator in the Hard-Boiled Wonderland, is a Calcutec: a human computer who encrypts and stores data in his brain. There is another group of human computers called the Semiotecs, who are rogue Calcutecs using their skills to steal data and sell it for profit or use it for their own ends. Semiotecs work for an organization called the Factory, which opposes the corporate System that controls Tokyo and creates and directs Calcutecs. There are hints that the Factory and the System are both parts of the same vast organization, and (like the global adversaries in Orwell's <i>1984</i>) both Factory and System benefit from their perpetual war.</p>
<p>Watashi takes a job at a bizarre office building with a huge elevator and corridors that go on seemingly without end; this is where he meets the Girl in Pink, who is the receptionist. From his office Watashi descends a ladder to a subterranean river, the realm of the dangerous INKlings. The office is really a cover for the laboratory of the elderly Professor (grandfather of the Girl in Pink), who has set up his laboratory deep underground. Although the INKlings are hostile to humans, they are also a form of security. Their presence serves to deter anyone from stealing the Professor's research: he has found a way to record images from the subconscious.</p>
<p>The Professor asks the Calcutec to process his data by "shuffling," a highly restricted procedure that involves passing the data through the Calcutec's subconscious. It turns out that that the Professor used to be Chief of Research for the System. He is the one who enabled Calcutecs to shuffle data by recording their subconscious images, editing them into a semi-coherent story, and implanting them back in their brains. Watashi is the only surviving Calcutec who has undergone this procedure; his implanted story is called "The End of the World."</p>
<p>In a parallel narrative, we encounter the first-person narrator Boku. He has recently arrived in a walled Town, from which no one is allowed to leave. On Boku's arrival, the Town's Gatekeeper has severed his Shadow, where all his memories are stored. Shadows are left to die, along with the unicorns that absorb the final traces of the Townspeople's dreams and live outside the Town, exposed to the harsh winter. As his own individuality slowly fades, Boku plots to reunite with his Shadow and escape the Town.</p>
<p>As elements from one narrative gradually bleed into the other, we come to realize that the Town is Watashi's subconscious "End of the World." The data shuffling that the Professor has had the Calcutec perform will sever the connection between Watashi's conscious mind and the real world of the Hard-Boiled Wonderland. In little more than a day Watashi will be forever sealed inside his own mind, unless the Professor reverses the process. But Factory thugs, aided by INKlings, have broken into and destroyed the Professor's laboratory. . .</p>
<p>Published in the U.S. in 1991, <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland</i> was not quite as widely or as well reviewed as <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, and sold only about 5,000 copies in hardback. (One of those is on my shelf.) Murakami had lost some of his novelty value, in part because it had been two years since the publication of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, and in part because it was becoming clear that he was not alone.</p>
<p>In the wake of the success of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, Birnbaum had edited and translated a collection of recent Japanese short stories and novel excerpts with the arresting title <i>Monkey Brain Sushi: New Tastes in Japanese Fiction</i>. In his review of <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland</i>, science-fiction writer Bruce Sterling wrote that <i>Monkey Brain Sushi</i> "demonstrates that there are plenty more where Murakami came from. Slangy, vivid, caustic and political, media-soaked and set on fast-forward, this 'New Fiction' crowd is fiercely intent on showing the world that Kawabata, Tanizaki and Mishima are history" (Karashima p. 123). As indeed they were; the most lately deceased of the three had died twenty years before Sterling's review was published. And of course part of the "slangy, vivid" character of the writing reflected Birnbaum's style as a translator.</p>
<p>Murakami was disappointed that his U.S. sales hadn't grown with Kodansha. He decided to switch agents and publishers, a change that would ultimately also mean a change in translators, and in his literary fortunes.</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The transition</b></a>: <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> and <i>Dance Dance Dance</i>.</p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-1.html" target="_blank"><b>The English Library novels</b></a>: <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> (1979/1987), <i>Pinball, 1973</i> (1980/1985), and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> (1987/1989)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-4-wind-up-bird-chronicle.html" target="_blank"><b>International breakthrough</b></a>: <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1994-95/1997)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank"><b>Film adaptation</b></a>: Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/01/haruki-murakami-part-6-manga-stories.html" target="_blank"><b>Comics adaptation</b></a>: Jean-Christophe Deveney and PMGL's <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (2021/2023)</li>
</ul>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-34840662578227774992023-09-20T06:15:00.006-07:002024-01-07T07:19:51.282-08:00Haruki Murakami, part 1: The English Library novels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWeOGcoCzlcSltorqZalK2rY8fuqcpPYuZkP1N2w2LcWshJqkO4qFr4V0kMSi4yfpAJkHR-IllIi8VnZKPnGQDvpMjw9wWx7dENXjJdPau9vQQsuSID7KgBfsn1yqiI5d_B5yH6H8pIG5ha80pquMl3Olby_dz8KPzuijdqsbyc72sreXBVjD_ghE/s720/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWeOGcoCzlcSltorqZalK2rY8fuqcpPYuZkP1N2w2LcWshJqkO4qFr4V0kMSi4yfpAJkHR-IllIi8VnZKPnGQDvpMjw9wWx7dENXjJdPau9vQQsuSID7KgBfsn1yqiI5d_B5yH6H8pIG5ha80pquMl3Olby_dz8KPzuijdqsbyc72sreXBVjD_ghE/s16000/Haruki-Murakami_480.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Haruki Murakami. Photo credit: Kevin Trageser / Redux. Image source: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/haruki-murakami-02-17-20" target="_blank">The New Yorker</a></p>
<p>Haruki Murakami was the bestselling author of six novels in Japan before any of his books were published outside of that country. But less than a decade after the U.S. publication of his third novel <i>Hitsuji o meguru bōken</i> as <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> in 1989, Murakami had become an international phenomenon. Today he is by far the best-known contemporary Japanese writer; his books are instant bestsellers but also receive serious critical attention. He has been a member of the visiting faculty of Princeton and Harvard, has given a lecture series at UC Berkeley, and has received an honorary degree from Yale. There is even <a href="https://web-japan.org/niponica/niponica33/en/feature/feature03.html" target="_blank">a library dedicated to Murakami</a> at his alma mater Waseda University.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_UT5Hn3PjLtMftdEay2Dis4B9QMKJ7FynS5mgUIJ4Py5NeDLMugN6OHsj2XreMqnutXzNL39sCImdrHKnVGGOe8xeuKCSpxcZalPhlQlU2d5xOjgHaeAx2q5ezJT9zvD1XYIxGsFt3LN30rjv0oeHAIj30yc6M0SWSEf6D4nKBRvUf1rMSoKtULp/s600/murakami_library_waseda_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="600" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_UT5Hn3PjLtMftdEay2Dis4B9QMKJ7FynS5mgUIJ4Py5NeDLMugN6OHsj2XreMqnutXzNL39sCImdrHKnVGGOe8xeuKCSpxcZalPhlQlU2d5xOjgHaeAx2q5ezJT9zvD1XYIxGsFt3LN30rjv0oeHAIj30yc6M0SWSEf6D4nKBRvUf1rMSoKtULp/s16000/murakami_library_waseda_600.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Waseda International House of Literature (The Haruki Murakami Library). Image source: <a href="https://web-japan.org/niponica/niponica33/en/feature/feature03.html" target="_blank">Niponica: Discovering Japan</a></p>
<p>In this post series I'll be discussing three Murakami-related works:<br /></p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> (Soft Skull, 2020), an examination of the English-language publication of Murakami's books from his first novella through his international breakthrough <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1995/1997).<br /></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Jay Rubin's <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i> (Harvill, 2002/Vintage 2005), a survey of Murakami's life and work up through the publication of <i>Umibe no Kafuka</i> (Kafka on the Shore, 2002/2005).</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021), the Academy-Award-winning film based on two Murakami short stories published in the collection <i>Men Without Women</i> (2014).</li>
</ul>
<p>David Karashima's <i>Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami</i> begins with the reason English-language readers know Murakami today: translator Alfred Birnbaum. Birnbaum had first encountered Murakami's writing in the early 1980s while working as a translator for Japanese art and design books published by Kodansha International. After a friend urged him to read a short story collection by Murakami, Birnbaum translated several of the stories on spec. During a meeting with a Kodansha editor in the spring of 1984 Birnbaum brought out his translation of the story "Nyū Yōku tankō no higeki" ("New York Mining Disaster"), and expressed interest in translating Murakami's most recent novel <i>Hitsuji o meguru bōken</i>, which had won the Kodansha-associated Noma New Writer's Prize in 1982 and had become a bestseller.</p>
<p>Instead he was given Murakami's first two short novels, <i>Kaze no uta o kike</i> (Listen to the Wind's Song), published in 1979, and <i>1973-nen no pinbōru</i> (1973 Pinball), published in 1980. Murakami called these his "kitchen table novels," because he wrote them at his kitchen table in his off hours from running the bar he owned with his wife. [1]<br /></p><p>Birnbaum translated the second book first, and at the suggestion of editor Jules Young titled it <i>Pinball, 1973</i>. In 1985 Birnbaum's translation was published in the paperback Kodansha English Library, a series published only in Japan and intended for Japanese readers who were learning English. (Each volume contained an English-Japanese glossary at the back.)</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMEhPpeRrJ3I5zHewXItQ4KvVK75k0eamRdnLKdHSsOkoiLVMzHCgaWzscdnRb65WVBdmfK5R8IvvyNrGoHK7G9cJ9YrDjxhLjcuzEiF4Ks-5C8oELRZUwfRd2xgffm9GkY-m0B9ZlI-RDyP8x2jeQBxUfvtkZ43xBuIMKuFEZNVp3rUP0XXysrpW/s639/pinball-1973_450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="450" height="639" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMEhPpeRrJ3I5zHewXItQ4KvVK75k0eamRdnLKdHSsOkoiLVMzHCgaWzscdnRb65WVBdmfK5R8IvvyNrGoHK7G9cJ9YrDjxhLjcuzEiF4Ks-5C8oELRZUwfRd2xgffm9GkY-m0B9ZlI-RDyP8x2jeQBxUfvtkZ43xBuIMKuFEZNVp3rUP0XXysrpW/s16000/pinball-1973_450.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover illustration: Maki Sasaki. Image source: <a href="https://apa.si.edu/bookdragon/pinball-1973-by-haruki-murakami-translated-by-alfred-birnbaum/" target="_blank">Book Dragon</a></p>
<p><i>Pinball, 1973</i> alternates between the stories of the nameless narrator (Jay Rubin calls him "Boku," after one of the Japanese words for "I") and a college friend nicknamed the Rat, who is trying to become a writer. Both men are in their mid-20s and somewhat adrift. </p><p>The Rat spends most of his time at J's Bar in Kobe. He's trying to work up the courage to leave a woman he's become involved with, because their relationship is apparently a barrier to his writing ambitions. (A reader may imagine that spending hours drinking in a bar every day instead of writing might be a greater barrier to getting anything done.) One day the Rat simply decides never to call the woman again, and leaves town for destinations unknown. [2]<br /></p>
<p>Boku is living in Tokyo with cute twins whom he can only identify by their numbered sweatshirts (208 and 209). He embarks on a quest to find an unusual pinball machine that he used to play at a Tokyo arcade that closed down three years previously. Once Boku's quest reaches its end with a surreal encounter in an eerie pinball machine warehouse, the twins leave. Either obstacles and distractions, or muses, guides and healers for his male protagonists: early on Murakami set out the limited roles available to many of his women characters.</p>
<p>He also introduced some of the elements that would become recurring tropes in his fiction. On the first page we read that people tell the narrator stories "as if they were tossing rocks down a dry well"; the image of a well will recur in the later novels <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> and <i>Norwegian Wood</i>, and the protagonist will spend much of <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> at the bottom of a dry well. Also featured is the narrator's obsession with ears: in this novel, every evening after his bath the twins would "sit one on each side of me and simultaneously clean both my ears. The two of them were positively great at cleaning ears." If this sounds vaguely sexual, that suspicion will be borne out in his later books.</p>
<p><i>Pinball, 1973</i> also displayed Murakami's tendency to present banalities or truisms as insights:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>". . . .if a person would just make an effort, there's something to be learned from everything. From even the most ordinary, commonplace things, there's always something you can learn." (p. 96)</p>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<p>The past and the present, we might say, "go like this." The future is a "maybe." Yet when we look back on the darkness that obscures the path that brought us this far, we only come up with another indefinite "maybe." The only thing we perceive with any clarity is the present moment, and even that just passes by. (p. 177)</p>
</blockquote>
<p><i>Pinball, 1973</i> went on to multiple printings: my copy purchased in the early 1990s is the eighth. On the strength of its success Birnbaum published two more Murakami translations in the English Library: <i>Kaze no uta o kike</i> as <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> in 1987, and the multimillion-selling blockbuster <i>Noruwei no mori</i> (1987), Murakami's fifth novel, as <i>Norwegian Wood</i> in 1989.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAmsyM46znw6-UyKxN7ZIThQy6bxYdQHJQpcoqKZsflngiKOHq5g4lss-nJ9NP9ZxzSKNGxLKBPmUjX4NH0S312rFyMC679cnES_tp_XuqHMIamsG0ymUpc1NZ0A7QHLS_k5jXpcWJ9tV43Acvxr7jSXUCaTE95p8jGwVJ8UIsH8HWy0im4xEztjo/s627/hear-the-wind-sing_450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="627" data-original-width="450" height="627" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAmsyM46znw6-UyKxN7ZIThQy6bxYdQHJQpcoqKZsflngiKOHq5g4lss-nJ9NP9ZxzSKNGxLKBPmUjX4NH0S312rFyMC679cnES_tp_XuqHMIamsG0ymUpc1NZ0A7QHLS_k5jXpcWJ9tV43Acvxr7jSXUCaTE95p8jGwVJ8UIsH8HWy0im4xEztjo/s16000/hear-the-wind-sing_450.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Cover illustration: Maki Sasaki. Image source: <a href="https://www.abebooks.co.uk/first-edition/HEAR-WIND-SING-Haruki-Murakami-Kodansha/30489394230/bd" target="_blank">Abebooks.co.uk</a></p>
<p>The second novel of Murakami's to be translated into English was the first work of fiction he wrote. The novel is about the unnamed narrator's struggles to write the very book we are reading. The narrator (again, following Rubin, we'll call him Boku) looks back from 1979 on his friendship a decade previously with his college buddy the Rat. Although the Rat has ambitions to be a writer, he spends most of his time drinking beer with Boku in J's Bar. Both of them attend university in Tokyo, and are home in Kobe for the summer. The novel is set in August 1970, three years before the action of <i>Pinball, 1973</i>, and just months after the militant Japanese student protest movement was violently suppressed by the police. Boku has a broken tooth sustained in a police confrontation, but both he and the Rat have become disillusioned with political action, or, really, any kind of action at all.</p>
<p>In <i>Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words</i>, Rubin offers a revised translation of the first chapter of <i>Hear the Wing Sing</i>. [3] Comparing Birnbaum's and Rubin's translations points up some characteristic differences in their approaches. In the following passage I've placed Rubin's revisions in parentheses following Birnbaum's version:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>". . .when it came to getting something into writing, I was always overcome with despair. The range of my ability was just too limited. Even if I could write, say, about elephants (an elephant), I probably couldn't have written a thing about elephant trainers (the elephant's keeper). So it went (That kind of thing).</p>
<p>For eight years I was caught in (went on wrestling with) that dilemma—and eight years is a long time. . .Now I think I'm ready to talk (Now I'm ready to tell). . .Still, it's awfully hard to tell things honestly. The more honest I try to be, the more the right words recede into the distance (sink into the darkness).</p>
<p>I don't mean to rationalize (I'm not making excuses), but at least this writing is my present best (the best I can do for now). There's nothing more to say. And yet I find myself thinking that if everything goes well, sometime way ahead, years, maybe decades, (even decades) from now, I might discover at last that these efforts have been my salvation (discover myself saved). Then lo, at that point, the elephants will return to the plains and I will set forth a vision in words more beautiful (And then, at that time, the elephant will return to the plain, and I shall begin to tell the tale of the world in words more beautiful than these). (<i>Hear the Wing Sing</i>, pp. 5-6|Rubin, pp. 41-42) [4]</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I don't read Japanese, so I can't judge these translations by their fidelity to the original. But I do have some thoughts about tone.</p>
<p>Rubin's narrator is earnest and describes his situation with more than a touch of post-adolescent melodrama: the right words "sink into the darkness," in the future he "may discover myself saved," and then he will "tell the tale of the world." Birnbaum's narrator is more self-mocking: in "So it went" there's the echo of Kurt Vonnegut's fatalistic "So it goes" from <i>Slaughterhouse-Five</i>, words "recede into the distance" instead of "sink into the darkness," and "Then lo, at that point," deflates the pomposity of his talk of salvation through a self-ridiculing awareness of how Biblical he's begun to sound.</p>
<p>Rubin's narrator grandiosely says he will "tell the tale of the world"; Birnbaum's will "set forth a vision"—undercutting himself with more of that ironic pseudo-Biblical diction, and making no claims to universality. Finally, Rubin's narrator is "wrestling" with his dilemma, while Birnbaum's is "caught" in his, a word that seems better to capture the narrator's detachment and passivity. Birnbaum's translation is sometimes clunky—"sometime way ahead, years, maybe decades, from now" has a lot of commas over the course of a very few words. And there would seem to be a significant difference (which I can't resolve) between an elephant trainer and an elephant keeper (Ted Goosens' later translation also uses "trainer"). But to my mind's ear Rubin's translation is no less clunky—"discover myself saved" as an example—and his choices makes the narrator sound as though he's lacking the ironic self-awareness of Birnbaum's.<br /></p>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Image source: <a href="https://www.raptisrarebooks.com/product/norwegian-wood-haruki-murakami-first-edition-signed-1989-rare/" target="_blank">Raptis Rare Books</a></p>
<p>As Birnbaum finished his translation of <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i>, Murakami published his fifth novel, <i>Noruwei no mori</i> (Norwegian Wood) in September 1987. [5] It became a massive bestseller, selling millions of copies over the next 15 months. Birnbaum's editor Jules Young requested that he translate it immediately for the English Library. </p><p>Birnbaum was unenthusiastic. He found that the novel was "missing the humor and surreal aspects I liked" and was "a bit sentimental," and he had already started translating <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>. But he did not have the luxury of turning down a job, and so he agreed to do both. I think Birnbaum's hesitations were justified. If <i>Norwegian Wood</i> had been the first Murakami novel I read, I doubt that I would have been interested in reading any of his other fiction.</p>
<p>This time Murakami's narrator has a name—Tōru Watanabe—and is once again looking back at his college-age self from Murakami's age at the time of writing (38). The novel takes place against the distant background of the Japanese student movement of the late 1960s. In the foreground are the love troubles of the young Tōru, who has come from his home town of Kobe to attend university in Tokyo (again, like Murakami himself).</p>
<p>Tōru is torn between two women. The first is Naoko, the former girlfriend of Tōru's best friend in high school, Kizuki. Death seems to surround her: both Naoko's sister and Kizuki committed suicide, and she herself has dark thoughts that have resulted in her leaving college to go to a sanatorium-like retreat in the mountains. The second woman in Tōru's life is the lively, outgoing, un- (or less-) complicated Midori, who makes overtures to Tōru even though she already has a boyfriend. Yes, it's a woman who represents the death drive versus a woman who represents the life force.<br /></p>
<p>Complicating matters is Naoko's roommate at the sanatorium, a 39-year-old woman named Reiko, who pours out her life story to the sympathetic Tōru. That story involves her experiences as a musician, wife and mother, until her lesbian seduction (recounted at multi-page length and in explicit detail) by a beautiful but malevolent 13-year-old (!) student. Reiko's marriage and career are destroyed, and she has a breakdown that brings her to the sanatorium. [6]<br /></p>
<p>Rubin calls Reiko's tale "a compelling, heartbreaking story" that has the reader "hanging on every word" (p. 4). Another perspective might be that her story indulges in tiresome clichés about predatory lesbians, and provides prurient details for the titillation of both Tōru and the reader.</p>
<p>Reiko's friendship with Tōru ultimately leads her to leave the illusory safety of the sanatorium to go stay with Tōru in Tokyo. The (literal) seductions of lesbianism are, of course, vanquished by a night of passionate (unprotected, intergenerational and semi-incestuous) sex with the straight hero. [7]<br /></p>
<p>It's been a while since I've read <i>Norwegian Wood</i>, but I don't think I'm exaggerating its schematic and stereotypical qualities. But despite (or perhaps because of) those qualities it made Murakami the most successful novelist in Japan. In 2010 it was <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1270842/" target="_blank">adapted as a film</a> by writer-director Anh Hung Tran.</p>
<p>Given Murakami's subsequent international fame, it's curious that <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i>, <i>Pinball, 1973</i>, and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> were available in English in Japan a least a decade before they were published in any English-speaking country. (<i>Norwegian Wood</i> was published in the U.S. in a new translation by Rubin in 1999, and the first two novels were published in new translations by Ted Goosens in 2015.) But perhaps this was a wise choice on the part of Kodansha. I bought all three English Library titles as imports at the Kinokuniya Bookstore in San Francisco's Japantown after reading the U.S. edition of <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> shortly after it came out. I recall being disappointed in each of them. The two short novels seemed slight, and <i>Norwegian Wood</i> seemed conventional in the worst senses, in comparison to the first Murakami novel published in the U.S.: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>. [8]</p>
<p><b>Next time:</b> <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-2.html" target="_blank"><b>Murakami's first U.S. publications</b></a>: <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i> and <i>Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World</i>.</p>
<p><b>Other posts in this series:</b></p>
<ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/09/haruki-murakami-part-3.html" target="_blank"><b>The transition</b></a>: <i>The Elephant Vanishes</i> (1980-91/1993) and <i>Dance Dance Dance</i> (1988/1994)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-4-wind-up-bird-chronicle.html" target="_blank"><b>International breakthrough</b></a>: <i>The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle</i> (1994-95/1997)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2023/10/haruki-murakami-part-5-drive-my-car.html" target="_blank"><b>Film adaptation</b></a>: Ryūsuke Hamaguchi's <i>Drive My Car</i> (2021)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 8px;"><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2024/01/haruki-murakami-part-6-manga-stories.html" target="_blank"><b>Comics adaptation</b></a>: Jean-Christophe Deveney and PMGL's <i>Haruki Murakami: Manga Stories</i> (2021/2023)<br /></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">This is often described as a "jazz bar," but it didn't feature live bands; Murakami played jazz records as background music.<br /></li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In <i>A Wild Sheep Chase</i>, the third novel in the so-called "Rat Trilogy" and which takes place half a decade later, Boku will go in search of the Rat.</li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In the foreword to the U.S. publication of the first two novellas (in a
new translation by Ted Goosens), Murakami reports that his breakthrough
into writing was to compose the opening passages of <i>Hear the Wind Sing</i> in English after the manner of the American writers he was currently reading, such as Raymond Chandler and Raymond Carver. He then "translated" the passages back into Japanese. In the early 1980s Murakami had begun to translate American fiction into Japanese, and the boku-hero of <i>Pinball, 1973</i> has set up an English translation agency with the Rat.<br /></li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">It's interesting that this passage describes the narrator's inability to write about an elephant keeper. The disappearance of an elephant and his keeper will be the central event in Murakami's later short story "The Elephant Vanishes," and elephants will turn up in several of Murakami's other stories and novels. Again, an apparently casual or random reference turns out to be a recurring motif.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">"Noruwei no mori"—literally, "A Forest in Norway"—is, according to Rubin, "the standard Japanese mistranslation of The Beatles' song 'Norwegian Wood'," which features repeatedly in the novel. (p. 149)</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">I don't recall the disturbing detail of the student's age in Birnbaum's translation, but it is definitely present in Rubin's later retranslation. Bisexual or lesbian characters also recur in Murakami's fiction.</li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">The apparently irresistible sexual magnetism of Murakami's protagonists,
who are frequently provided with semi-autobiographical characteristics,
is another frequent feature of his fiction. In <i>1Q84</i> (2009/2011), a beautiful bisexual assassin has a deep sexual attraction to middle-aged men with receding hairlines; in 2009 Murakami turned 60.<br /></li><li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">I was so disappointed in <i>Norwegian Wood</i> that I sold my two-volume red and green English Library copy to a used bookstore. I probably got $5 for both volumes. These days copies of the two-volume English Library edition, even in later printings, are selling for hundreds of dollars; signed first printings go for thousands.<br /></li>
</ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9186118329509553435.post-23784555841539973592023-08-31T20:48:00.004-07:002023-09-02T03:12:26.597-07:00The Good Fairy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1D2InoMYlg2vxxcMpW8raZua3q3X5qOJK244IH_LIUcj1BFnYY2SdxlqOn0utdzB5vlj3khyMUGSxsjCMFNP7QJapbeW_adtL7gm7ec2aCvPkii2e-t8dDLgHMdoP1Dj3zZk5MDoLmoHoxhQnD7IPsX27yPWusviiE5I0XHx6BBJMRnxKV_IU35x/s600/good_fairy_usherette.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1D2InoMYlg2vxxcMpW8raZua3q3X5qOJK244IH_LIUcj1BFnYY2SdxlqOn0utdzB5vlj3khyMUGSxsjCMFNP7QJapbeW_adtL7gm7ec2aCvPkii2e-t8dDLgHMdoP1Dj3zZk5MDoLmoHoxhQnD7IPsX27yPWusviiE5I0XHx6BBJMRnxKV_IU35x/s16000/good_fairy_usherette.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Margaret Sullavan as a dazzling usherette in <i>The Good Fairy</i> (1935)</p>
<p>Preston Sturges-scripted films often feature the comic confusions that result when unexpected good fortune suddenly descends on the protagonist:<br /></p><ul>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2014/02/films-of-jean-arthur-part-1-mr-deeds.html#easyLiving" target="_blank"><i><b>Easy Living</b></i></a> (1937), that descent is literal: a fur coat flung out of the window of his penthouse apartment by exasperated banker J.B. Ball (Edward Arnold) lands on the head of secretary Mary Smith (Jean Arthur) on the street below. He insists that she keep the coat, which leads to the widespread assumption that she is Ball's mistress. Unemployment, a stock market plunge, and a night in a luxury hotel suite with the banker's handsome son quickly follow.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2016/02/christmas-noir-remember-night.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Remember the Night</b></i></a> (1940), seasonally sentimental New York district attorney John Sargent (Fred MacMurray) offers to take shoplifting defendant Lee Leander (Barbara Stanwyck) home to Indiana for Christmas. An arrest for trespassing, arson, a flight from justice, and a blossoming but impossible love will result.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 10px;">In <i><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2021/05/the-comedies-of-preston-sturges-part-2.html#palmBeachStory" target="_blank"><b>The Palm Beach Story</b></a></i> (1942), Tom and Gerry Jeffers (Joel McCrea and Claudette Colbert) are behind on the rent and unable to interest investors in Tom's new inventions (for good reason). Enter the Texas Wienie King (Robert Dudley), who gives Gerry the money to bid Tom farewell with a good conscience and head to Palm Beach in search of a rich new husband. By the time the soft-hearted Wienie King gives Tom the money to follow her, Gerry has already hooked multimillionaire mark J.D. Hackensacker III (Rudy Vallee). Gerry introduces the inconvenient Tom to her new Florida friends as her brother. Meanwhile, J.D.'s man-eating sister Maude (Mary Astor) takes a keen interest in Gerry's tall, handsome supposed sibling. Romantic misunderstandings reign.</li>
</ul>
<p>These films demonstrate that generous impulses can have unintended consequences, and playing the good fairy can sometimes backfire. Which is the theme of <i>The Good Fairy</i> (1935), an early version of Sturges' much-revisited plot.</p>
<p>Raised in an orphanage, the naïve and good-hearted Luisa Ginglebusher (Margaret Sullavan) loves to regale the younger girls there with fairy tales.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh60Ub8EJ_e3Boe-Iq4ajPb6fkIbKIG-7b8kvHzDUKIon1fOXD3Fxcv9_bmDtxTIkNNHQNJItsSx3E1ygaiG88jx3zGJwEOo0SA6t3KnOQiPuU62whXM-_Oe-pxCxcBuTSshGcszZDPT9EvFKdC1cxWsdQXt9j89R782qvatecczxkfoCDKK1ZML5YI/s600/good_fairy_orphanage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="600" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh60Ub8EJ_e3Boe-Iq4ajPb6fkIbKIG-7b8kvHzDUKIon1fOXD3Fxcv9_bmDtxTIkNNHQNJItsSx3E1ygaiG88jx3zGJwEOo0SA6t3KnOQiPuU62whXM-_Oe-pxCxcBuTSshGcszZDPT9EvFKdC1cxWsdQXt9j89R782qvatecczxkfoCDKK1ZML5YI/s16000/good_fairy_orphanage.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p>Her fantasies are interrupted when the manager of the Dreampalast movie theater, Maurice Schlapkohl (Alan Hale), comes to the orphanage looking to hire an usherette, and Lu is chosen. [1]</p>
<p>The head of the orphanage, Dr. Schultz (Beulah Bondi), is concerned about the usherettes' uniforms, providing an opportunity for some of Sturges' trademark risqué dialogue:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Schlapkohl: They wear gorgeous uniforms. I designed them myself. A big hussar's hat, a little cloak, and pants—<br />
Dr. Schultz (alarmed): Pants?<br />
Schlapkohl: —with stripes. Very effective.<br />
Dr. Schultz: I dare say. Ah, the pants, I mean, they're not too tight?<br />
Schlapkohl: That depends entirely on the girl—the pants are all the same size.<br /></p>
</blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRkf0OVSj9fkCbkLfjue9QP2l4NhzcG0_U74kOP8bAyMFYbxhu8nX_2mzDdgRejRBMJYEcwBpQ7IOcBNu0QBeTTCjyXeOVgc_ZPQQxG80xgWahyKHrALxUnNhtyiRFuodGrJ_VBQVMrwtrhEHXQeadmRtuVG19phrWEMZEwEIsKYni0wIEw7_j8c9/s600/good_fairy_orphanage_choice.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="600" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRkf0OVSj9fkCbkLfjue9QP2l4NhzcG0_U74kOP8bAyMFYbxhu8nX_2mzDdgRejRBMJYEcwBpQ7IOcBNu0QBeTTCjyXeOVgc_ZPQQxG80xgWahyKHrALxUnNhtyiRFuodGrJ_VBQVMrwtrhEHXQeadmRtuVG19phrWEMZEwEIsKYni0wIEw7_j8c9/s16000/good_fairy_orphanage_choice.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Alan Hale (Schlapkohl), Margaret Sullavan (Lu), and Beulah Bondi (Dr. Schultz) at the moment of choice</p>
<p>Given that <i>The Good Fairy</i> went into production the fall of 1934, just a few months after the new <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2015/08/when-i-kiss-them-they-stay-kissed-pre.html" target="_blank"><b>Production Code Administration</b></a> was established in July, it's surprising how suggestive the dialogue and situations remain. Sturges' script had come back from Joseph Breen's office covered in red ink. In the first draft, Dr. Schultz warns Lu as she leaves for her first day as an usherette, "A young girl must be careful in her relations with men." Breen flagged the line for elimination because "relations" could mean sexual relations. In the final film version the line becomes "A young girl cannot be too careful in her dealings with the male gender." "Dealings," of course, suggests that there might be monetary or other sorts of exchanges involved in women's interactions with men. It went right past Breen. As cut dialogue from another scene in Sturges' first draft had it, "How much would a girl have to give for a fur coat?" "Her all." <br /></p>
<p>Leaving the theater after her first night of work (and having changed out of her uniform) Lu is accosted by a wolfish stage-door Johnny (Cesar Romero). To escape his clutches she claims that she's married, and grabs the arm of an exiting customer, Detlaf (Reginald Owen).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAM7TYlRQrEVJX-p6QhJcUKfv0eMaLEk3Q8Q_AJqtV0BB5joC0l5Gh-uZD1JCgFIytZrklbwuK4YbaftzKnqOQ30ZBhloZqpeHnErwH-iFphAtwk1WdLuoHmD64UmO7ODCCKtgyaXf-g-DSqcjd3OM2jbQxYR5UGPE-cTzkIcuL2DttQHeAg4kXjj/s600/good_fairy_waiter.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="600" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAM7TYlRQrEVJX-p6QhJcUKfv0eMaLEk3Q8Q_AJqtV0BB5joC0l5Gh-uZD1JCgFIytZrklbwuK4YbaftzKnqOQ30ZBhloZqpeHnErwH-iFphAtwk1WdLuoHmD64UmO7ODCCKtgyaXf-g-DSqcjd3OM2jbQxYR5UGPE-cTzkIcuL2DttQHeAg4kXjj/s16000/good_fairy_waiter.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Margaret Sullavan (Lu) and Reginald Owen (Detlaf)</p>
<p>At first Detlaf has no idea who she is, or why she's calling him "darling":</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Detlaf: What are you talking about? Who are you?<br />
Lu: Don't you remember? I'm the girl that pointed out the way with the electric wand.<br />
Detlaf: Oh yes, sure. I didn't recognize you without your pants.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Over sandwiches and beer Detlaf tells her about his job as a waiter, and offers her a ticket to a ball at the fancy hotel restaurant where he works. </p><p>In a dazzling borrowed dress the next night Lu attends the ball, and catches the eye of multimillionaire businessman Konrad (Frank Morgan). Konrad, old enough to be Lu's father, invites her to supper in a private dining room (immediately adjacent, no doubt, to a bedroom). But Detlaf's repeated appearances continually thwart Konrad's attempted seduction. In a final attempt to keep Konrad at bay, Lu finally plays the "I'm married" card. To her surprise this doesn't deter Konrad: he offers to hire her husband. Konrad assumes that Lu realizes that her acquiescence will be a condition of her husband's employment, but Lu is so unworldly that she doesn't understand Konrad's implied contract.</p>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Frank Morgan (Konrad) and Margaret Sullavan (Lu)</p>
<p>It's hard to say how old Lu is supposed to be. In the Ferenc Molnar play on which <i>The Good Fairy</i> is (very) loosely based, Lu is 25 (Sullavan's actual age during shooting) and not nearly as naïve. But Sullavan is given pigtails (at least in the early scenes) and directed by William Wyler to act much younger than her true age. If Lu is supposed to be 17 or 18, it makes Konrad's proposition even more eyebrow-raising.</p>
<p>To play the role of her husband Lu picks a name at random out of the phone book: Dr. Max Sporum (Herbert Marshall), an honest, and so impoverished, lawyer. When Konrad sweeps in, offers him a job and orders his ancient desk and chair to be replaced by sleek modern furniture, Sporum thinks he's finally being rewarded for his integrity. Disillusionment will soon follow.</p>
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<p style="font-size: 90%; text-align: center;">Margaret Sullavan (Lu) and Herbert Marshall (Dr. Sporum)</p>
<p>Apart from the wide-eyed performance of Sullavan, the main appeal of <i>The Good Fairy</i> is the chance to see familiar actors in an unfamiliar context. Morgan's Konrad seems like a dry run for his Wizard of Oz four years later: he has some of the same mannerisms and even utters some of the same lines, such as "Well, well, well..." It adds to the creepiness of Konrad's attempted sexual coercion, as though the Wizard was lusting after Dorothy. Sullavan would be reunited with Morgan in <i>Shop Around the Corner</i> (1940); that film was directed by Ernst Lubitsch, who had also directed Marshall in <i><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-lubitsch-touch.html" target="_blank"><b>Trouble in Paradise</b></a></i> (1932). Beulah Bondi would return in the Sturges-written <i>Remember the Night</i>, and Eric Blore, who plays the sozzled Dr. Metz, the Minister of Art & Culture, is familiar as a member of the stock company of the <a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/search/label/movies%20-%20Fred%20Astaire%20and%20Ginger%20Rogers" target="_blank"><b>Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musicals</b></a>. [2]<br /></p>
<p>With its operetta-light plot, <i>The Good Fairy</i>—charming as it is—doesn't quite rise to the level of any of those other films. It is, though, a testament to the beauty of Sullavan, whose dazzling smile and big blue eyes (reading as light gray, of course, in black and white) are photographed by Wyler in loving, emotion-filled closeups. Sullavan brings depth to Lu, who, delighted as she is by the wonders of the big city,</p>
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<p>also discovers that all is not happiness and light.</p>
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<p>Those loving, emotion-filled closeups turned out to be literal: in the middle of filming Sullavan and Wyler (seven years her senior) flew to Arizona to be married, and were back on set the next day. The marriage was Wyler's first and Sullavan's second (her first husband had been Henry Fonda), and lasted only two years. But <i>The Good Fairy</i> remains Wyler's valentine to the captivating actress.</p>
<hr />
<ol><li>Incidentally, names Ginglebusher and Schlapkohl are not in the original Ferenc Molnar play on which <i>The Good Fairy</i> is based. They are Sturges', um, inspiration.</li><li> Sturges, of course, would go on to write and direct <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2021/05/the-comedies-of-preston-sturges-part-1.html#eve" target="_blank">The Lady Eve</a></b></i> (1940), and Wyler would later direct <i><b><a href="https://exoticandirrational.blogspot.com/2013/12/favorites-of-2103-movies.html" target="_blank">The Best Years of Our Lives</a></b></i> (1946) and <i>Roman Holiday</i> (1953). <br /></li></ol>Pessimisissimohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04223566131580795337noreply@blogger.com0