lotesse: (millay_spring)
We've had absolutely bats weather here - day before yesterday windgusts of 80 mph, huge trees down all over the place, but mercifully no loss of life, and no tornadoes either. The winds aren't turning, just blowing like snot.

Saw Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and just hated it - I can't remember the last time I was so bored. The total lack of narrative structure/plot/characterization is stunning. Was this supposed to be a movie? It felt more like an amusement park ride, the way the first three managed to avoid in the despite of their origin. Johnny Depp v. pretty as always, I suppose, but my irritation with the formlessness of the thing kind of detracted from my ability to appreciate his eyeliner.

BUT. I also finished The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, and wow. It went somewhere MAJOR.

I do think Anne Brontë is, technically speaking, a weaker writer than her sisters. Wildfell Hall suffers from an overabundance of unmemorable, redundant secondary characters, and needs to be about a hundred pages shorter. (I've been wondering if Anne wasn't helped as much as the others were by their family writing collective because her interests turned to different genres/narrative modes/social issues. She wants to write a sober, longform realist novel, and she's stuck working with a bunch of crazy gothicists. But I have no evidence, only speculation.) Almost half of the novel keeps you stuck in the pov of Gilbert Markham, the whinging childish jealous brutish guy who's supposed to be the Good Lover, idek, and his head is a really boring place to be.

But the middle third of the novel, when you're in Helen Huntingdon's diary, is insanely banging. It's relentless, not allowing the reader to avert any of their attention from even the most squalid moments in the disintegration of Helen's marriage. The stuff with her son -! And with her husband's very clear understanding of the liberatory effect Helen's art has on her and his determination to put a stop to it -!
lotesse: (laputa_sheeta/pazu)
things that are Getting Better:

enrollment for next year done! successfully, even.

I just ate the last hundred pages of Middlemarch. I'm going to have to go back and write notes over the next week, but I just couldn't help myself. I am totally unable to resist George Eliot when she really gets her roll on - and girlfriend gives good ending.

Writing is also happening! Mainly on Prydain - and I'm trying to decide what I'm going to do with this fic. It's turning into a monster - over 8,000 words and I'm only just getting started, and I'm thinking about maybe posting it as a WIP? Which is something I never do, really, because I'm too much of a control freak/backward writer - but I want this to see daylight at some point!

My proposal for my spec-fic comp course went off today. I ended up including nuTrek, Serenity, LeGuin's "Winter's King," and N.K. Jemisin's "The Effluent Engine," as well as essays by LeGuin, Frederic Jameson, Joanna Russ, Francesca Coppa (TWC represent!), Elizabeth Freeman, and Adrienne Rich. So I'm excited about that, and hope it will get accepted - and also I am pleased that I have one less thing to work on.

Yesterday we went out to the farm and did things with tractors, and The Baby helped me pick a huge bunch of early jonquils, and we watched the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie with him, which he'd never seen. We've successfully converted him to Star Wars - we watched the OT together two summers ago, and now his closet door has a handwritten sign on it indicating the entrance to the "Jedi archives," so.
lotesse: (feminism - Buffy)
Because I love the girls and women in my fandoms, and think they're awesome.

spring on horseback like a lady )
lotesse: (sea)
Gilly linked to a post in [livejournal.com profile] despatches on Jack Sparrow being broken down in pairing fanfic, located here. It surprised me, because in truth that's my biggest disappointment with the Pirates franchise - they didn't break Jack Sparrow down.

We keep wanting to have these characters in our shiny things who are bad and brash and silver-tongued. Han Solo, Jack Sparrow, Dean Winchester. There's a definite mystique there. But my instinctual response to that sort of character is to assume that they're wearing a mask, and to want to tear it off of them. To break down the inhuman hostility of masks and beings. )

lotesse: (latitudes)
Oh god exams.

I've got two days left before I can turn in my papers without guilt, but I really want to be done with them now. On the plus side, today there was lots of packing. Which was good.

I saw PotC the at the midnight showing, but haven't felt the need to say anything about it. It makes me so completely, un-complicatedly happy. It's all the pirate games I played as a little girl with a stunning budget and production values. I have complete glee in it--not that I think I'm necessarily dumbing myself down. It's just, this is a game, okay? Free, unfettered imaginative play. It has different rules than structured, message-y stuff. Pirate Kings! Being Jack Sparrow! Bottle of rum!

...I'm going to see it again Tuesday, at which point I might find some things to say.
lotesse: (Default)
The first thing that I found myself needing to talk about after seeing PotC:DMC was Norrington. Because I am very, very afraid, but also intensely hopeful.

spoilers )

I need a pirate icon.
lotesse: (Sweet Bess)
here be spoilers )

I'm beyond satisfied. I want to see it again tomorrow. More coherent things later, I think. I've got some thinky thoughts about Sparribeth and my poor dearest James going, but it's nearly four in the morning, and I'm perished. Off to read some fic--I have to find some resolution after all--and then to bed.

Oh, I do love the world when there are new lovely pirate movies in it.
lotesse: (Default)
I have such an odd relationship to the internet during the summer. Being displaced from my One True Laptop ends nearly all writing and most reading, because I no longer have access to my bookmarks. And, I dunno, everything is just different. I feel less articulate in the summer, less grown-up. I haven't changed anything in my bedroom here since I was a tiny little girl, and it's all just the same as it was.

I'm reading De Beauvoir and working on Blake--a few weeks ago my brain woke up and said to me, "Lo," it said, "you haven't read anything hard for weeks. Go read something hard!" So I went to the library, and De Beauvoir. It's a bit dense, but intensely interesting.

The Boy and I bought a fabulous Jack Sparrow poster that is Teh Sechs, and it is in our bedroom. We are working on pirate costumes, which promise to be fabulous. I obtained a corset yesterday, and though it is alas not made of spiral steel it is certainly better than nothing.

We went to see Devil Wears Prada yesterday, because lo it was very hot out, and I think that this film proves that good acting is everything. Fluffiest story/premise ever, but brilliant performances all around. Must have been very fun to do.

It amuses me intensely that presidential running mates are listed with a virgule. Yes, I'd vote for Gore/Obama. That's hott.

I want Gore to run. Michael Moore is running his film at the film fest next month, and I'm psyched.

Technically, wouldn' the correct translation of "psyched" be "souled"? I'm so souled, omg.

daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin


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