Hard Times. Like the ones you'll have reading that novel.

Well, here I am, reading again Hard Times. I’ve been put in the third year again due to an administrative mistake (it will count as the last year anyway). I was assigned that novel two years ago and here is what I remember before reading it (again!):

-                     Didn’t like it. In fact, I think it’s the worst novel by Dickens. By a wide margin. It turns out that he had to improve a social magazine’s sales, so he wrote a story about the evils of capitalism… to sell more numbers of said magazine. Of such a ludicrous paradox came an awful novel.

-                     Scene I remember better: children being taught in the first episodes what I would call ‘science’ and the novel calls ‘facts’. I actually liked this beginning when I was in high school and I was discovering I had no head for numbers, physics, etc. Now, it comes out as preaching to the choir. But given Dickens’ original readers, that was probably the point. And yes, I began it in high school, but didn’t go too far with it.

-                       Characters: I hated them all. Mr Gradgrind is the only one who is slightly likable and maybe Louisa. And both of them loved a prissy little creature by the name of… Sissy Jupe. Hate! I vaguely remember her always surrounded by children and being generous and good and, well, incorruptible pure pureness in its basest form. And she is probably supposed to represent perfect womanhood. And she’s boring. Like pretty much everybody else in this book (someone should have told Dickens that when he wrote this kind of ‘lovable’ heroines he was creating someone his readers would hate forever. And another ludicrous paradox here. Not the kind Oscar Wilde liked, those were cool).

-                     Message: something to do with factories and progress being a bad thing. I’m sorry, but that message is totally lost on me. I know industrialisation was probably horrible in the beginning, but I’ve always felt that now that it’s passed, it’s not such a bad thing. I mean, there has to be a balance and all that, but what Dickens seems to be proposing (or Ruskin, Carlyle, and the like) is more in the lines of: ‘let’s go back in time, when we didn’t have to suffer seeing the poor people suffer for working long hours in factories. Or worse, the precious English countryside destroyed’. To give credit where credit is due, at least Dickens actually worked in a factory when he was a child. But he does not understand the working-class actual problems. He is all whimsical about the middle-class children not having fun at school, but when he introduces a working-class character with real problems, well then he is incapable of seeing that this situation makes those children’s problems seem very frivolous by comparison. Maybe that’s why he’s so melodramatic about the fate of the boy (not really sure what happened to him, but I’m pretty sure he dies at the end). I guess that’s the last paradox; he wrote about the effects of industrialisation in a poor town, but he had only a slightly better idea of what they were that his contemporaries, and ultimately he shows some fear and contempt toward his working-class characters and only really sympathises with some of his middle-class characters.

And that this message is not subtle, but constantly hammered on the reader’s head only makes it worse. That happens a lot actually, especially with environmental movies.

It is a pity, because I like some of his novels a lot. We could have read Great Expectations or Bleak House or something really challenging by Dickens. But, alas! I’m in my third year again. It seems I’m not gonna learn anything this year. Well, maybe I’ll like Hard Times better this time. That was what I could remember. It will be nice to compare.

(And thanks to Dickens we got Christmas! So I won’t hate him while reading the novel. I just couldn’t).

Summer is over ... Yay!

Well, I'm back to writing after a long Summer vacation, or rather I'm trying. I remember I was full of energy at the beginning of the summer, thinking about all the short stories I wanted to write, all the books I wanted to read, maybe I could do some exercise? Go for long walks? After the first week or so, my energy deflated.  I'm blaming the heat on this! Actually, hot weather always does that to me, and I've always spent all my summers here in Badajoz, one of the hottest places of Spain.
But luckily, I'm moving out again and to one of the most beautiful, lively Spanish cities! Granada is full of people (especially students like me), pubs with delicious cheap food (free with a drink), long long walks full of interesting views and buildings and people,...
God, I've missed that! Badajoz is so small, the only good thing is that going to Portugal from there is very easy. But it doesn't have much, other than some interesting modernistic buildings (including a copy of La Giralda). I really feel uneasy here, instead of relaxed. I feel like I'm wasting my time, and Granada is so close. Ah well, no nostalgia for me then.

Some people called Badajoz Little Seville. Either an insult or a compliment.

One of those modernist buildings I've mentioned.

Today, it rained for the first time in four months and I remembered that I like this town when it rains: the light changes, the smell is great (autumnal), the sky becomes completely white with the clouds. Almost my last day here.

At least, I got a nice haircut this summer.

Vampires in the Victorian Literature.

As you could see in my presentation, vampires were popular in the 19^th century because they worked so well as symbols of the breaking of rules, especially sexual transgressions. You had the cruel parasitic abuse of the nobility in the aristocratic and sick Dracula (preceded by Polidori’s Lord Ruthven), that has somehow remained until today. This portrait of an aristocrat, apparently and morally obligated to be perfect, has a hint of rebellion that I’m sorry to say, is mostly gone now-a-days.

Another popular one was the female vampire, who symbolised not only the feared liberation of women but also the forbidden passion of sapphism. Carmilla was a short story by Sheridan LeFanu, in which Laura narrates her romance with Carmilla, a creature reincarnated through her name (I always wondered what would happen when she run out of different spellings for her name). I really liked this story and I recommend it for its psychological accuracy in portraying Laura’s dilemma, though this is quickly destroyed by the slayer, the first Van Helsing, who appears more as a reactionary figure who destroys the rebel woman rather than the benevolent saviour of the innocent damsel in distress. Perhaps they are one and the same.

Those two archetypes are now-a-days parodied to no end and a real vampire doesn’t exist anymore; they are superheroes with another name, a name that evokes darkness and romance, and subsequently betrays it.

I miss when regaining humanity was the happy ending.

Last week I went to see Dark Shadows, a movie I expected to like with all my heart, not only because it was the comeback of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, but also because I’ve read in the interviews that that they were returning to the old way vampires were: dark, evil creatures who felt remorse for their hedious crime, and not the goodie pieces of meat they are now. 

After the movie, I was confused, I didn’t know whether I liked or not. A little like after just watching The Phantom Menace for the first time, though I was even more confused after that one. Partially, it was because there were too many things going on too quickly, but also because I really really wanted to like it. An hour later, I decided that no I hadn’t enjoyed the movie at all.

So, yeah I tried to enjoy Dark Shadows and for a while it worked. Let’s say the first 45 minutes. And later the movie still could redeem itself. It was when it was over when I felt the disappointment.

Now, why? I love Tim Burton-Johnny Depp’s movies. And no, I don’t consider Alice to be one of those. Or a real movie, for that matter. I joked with my friends after the movie saying that as an ex-gothic teenager I was ‘contractually obligated’ to like them, but before this movie it came naturally. But the only thing I really liked from this was the soundtrack. And I don’t mean Danny Elfman’s, which I didn’t even notice. I mean the 70’s songs, especially Alice Cooper’s cameo (I’m pretty sure I’ve heard ‘No More Mr Nice Guy’ in some princess movie when I was a child). 

Anyway, I saw a comic review that compared the original soap opera with Burton’s adaptation and realised why I didn’t like this movie, or anything vampire-related since Buffy, except for the parodies and works that didn’t have vampires as protagonists, like Bite Me or The Dresden Files: http://thatguywiththeglasses.com/videolinks/team-nchick/vampire-reviews/35341-vampire-reviews-dark-shadows

If I have to analyse the movie, I'd say that the first half is actually pretty funny and the characters are interesting, though the editing is confusing. Who is supposed to be the protagonist? For almost 15 minutes you're convinced me that it's Victoria but for the rest of the movie is Barnabas. That is a reflection of the soap opera, for a season or so Victoria was the protagonist and then Barnabas appeared and she ended up fading in the background and leaving the cast. And that would be fine, except that the rest of the cast almost disappears in the movie (in a couple of cases literally), so the promising characters go underdeveloped. Especially bad for Victoria, who ends up being a boring pure pretty girl with a sad past that doesn't affect much the story.

And now, spoilers, the end. Oh my God, the end. There, you have Twilight in 5 seconds. Oh the irony! Victoria, who has not been seen for an hour or so, is hypnotised by the evil witch to jump the cliff and killing the witch is not stopping it so Barnabas goes after her and she, on the edge, tells him to turn her into a vampire. He says: No, I love you and I couldn't possibly pass this curse onto you! (you're immortal, powerful and the only flaw is that you can't see the sun, but after 200 years you must be used to!). So she jumps, he jumps after her, bites her and now they're two monsters ... I mean superpowerful beings. Hooray!  And all the time I was thinking: 'if only Dr. Hoffman (Helena Bonham Carter) came back'. Yes, there are three women after Barnabas, a blonde, a dark and a redhead. Man, it has to suck being him! 
Barnabas Collins is a horrible character here. He's a self-righteous mass murderer, and at first you don't have to take that seriously, but after he murders a friend (whose transgression was taking his blood because she felt old), you realise he's really a bastard . Even the villain is more sympathetic in retrospective. You almost feel that if she were a vampire instead of a witch she'd be too cool to kill in the end or something. Barnabas seduces her, uses her and finally kills her. It was like seeing a high-class prick tormenting his maid.
But the biggest problem is that, though he complains about being a vampire who wants to be a human again, that he and his lover are vampires at the end of the film is treated as the best ending. That was bad in many levels, but was worse is that they said they were coming back to the old vampire, who is a monster that has to kill but also a human so can be redeemed. Not the typical hero, but a very complex villain protagonist. It seems that the original Barnabas Collins was like that, a charismatic character who at first was the villain but later on became the protagonist by being compelling both in his remorse over killing and his romanticism.

Jonathan Frid: he looks like a real vampire, remarkable!

Now, vampires are very different. They're the hero-protagonists, always portrayed by sexy actors. They're not dark anymore, they're perfect. At least in Buffy the protagonist was a human, since then humanity is so lame. In Twilight, Bella's only aspiration is to be a vampire, in True Blood the protagonist is a human for the first two seasons, but she's actually a powerful 'fairy', and so on. Humans can't be humans anymore, which is also bad for the vampire character too, since he has to obligatorily complain about being a monster when he's actually a super hero, so he comes out as whinny and emo. I think that's the problem with this movie and vampire fiction in the last ten years. We humans want some respect back! After all, we don't go around killing people (well, most of us). Powers are very well, but they don't make the protagonist. Not even the hero.

What’s so wrong with the new Irene Adler?

(By the new IA, I mean the one in Sherlock, the radically new and excellently written BBC miniseries. And btw, spoilers ahead).

It seems that the main source of criticism in ‘A Scandal in Belgravia’ is the character of Irene Adler, a character in the original that, as the other important elements of the show, has been ‘modernised’ and included in the new series. And yes, Adler is very important, as she is the closest thing to a romantic interest Sherlock Holmes has ever had, so of course she must necessarily be included in the plot (and I’m being sarcastic here).

But, really, I can see how Adler is interesting and I liked her in the original story. In ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’ she’s an opera singer who had a compromising picture with a prince and escapes the detective in the last minute, winning the  misogynist Holmes’s everlasting admiration. And then she never reappears.

Lillie Langtry, the likely inspiration of the opera singer, royally lover Irene Adler.

While I was watching the episode, (I paused a little, ‘cause you know, they last one hour and a half) I was enjoying the character of Irene Adler. Yes, when I’ve heard that she had been changed to a dominatrix with compromising pictures in her smart-phone I had my doubts, but then I discovered that it led to a lot of fanservice, so why not? I was just a bit pissed off when Sherlock couldn’t guess anything from Adler simply because she introduced herself naked. Yes, I know, more fanservice and a clever twist to the ‘first naked impression’ or ‘meet cute’, but I couldn’t but thought that the real Holmes would have guessed something from her hair or her perfume or something (yes, I’m a fan of the original Sherlock Holmes, and yes, I have that moment at least once per episode, except for the last one).

Yes, she's naked and still looks like a dominatrix!

It was in the last twenty minutes when I realised all the wrong they had done to the character. First of all, it's Moriarty who is behind the plan, she’s just a pawn in his hands. Secondly, she’s in love with Sherlock after all, and therefore, vulnerable. And then, there’s this little detail of she being supposedly gay. So, yep, the typical insulting and boring fantasy of the lesbian who falls for the male protagonist. Anyway, I was eager to forget all these flaws because the episode has been entertaining and all, but mainly because I was convinced that she was going to be killed at the end, and I didn’t care since she was kind of a bitch. It would be like in A Game of Shadows although they did that to ship Watson and Holmes… I mean to focus on their relationship (if the next movie finishes with the two of them riding to the sunset I won’t be surprised).

So, yeah, I was quite relieved when Mycroft tells Watson that Irene has been assassinated by some terrorists, but don’t tell my brother in case he has feelings, please. I mean, I wasn’t celebrating it, only thinking that it was the best for the story. And then they ruined it all by showing the most stereotypical Arab terrorists almost beheading a crying Irene and Holmes rescuing her. Well, fuck you, new series! I mean, Sherlock! So you have not only degraded an interesting, resourceful character to the damsel in distress, the bad girl who was having too much fun so she was punished but saved in the last minute in the most humiliating way possible; you’re threatening us with her reappearance!

It is pretty sad when a Victorian author writes a more interesting independent woman than Steven Moffat, in this century and in a series set this age. Doyle only wrote her for a short story, so the characterisation is very concise, which actually works in her favour since it turns her in a mysterious character. They could have tried that, instead of creating a woman from whom we end up knowing too much and who is just a shallow character. And don’t tell she shows us Sherlock has emotions and that’s her final victory. Of course he has emotions, I don’t need a fucking promoted love interest to tell me that, and that’s what female main characters have been doing since the beginning of times, so I’m fucking tired of it! I hope the next Irene will be at least more original.

Also, if it’s true what it’s said on the internet about Irene Adler being basically a copy of the same author’s River Song (I’ve only seen her in two episodes, but yeah I can see the similarities) then the most important episodes of the 11^th doctor are gonna suck. Oh, and I’m beginning to dislike Amy as well.

Why Would We Read a Novel Like Pamela?

Pamela is one long, epistolary novel written in the XVIII century. The protagonist is Pamela, a whiny teenager whose master wants to shag her, but is unable to rape her, due to her Incorruptible Pure Pureness. It doesn’t sound too appealing today (unless instead sounds familiar cough! Twilight cough!).

However, the style of the novel makes all the difference. It’s written as a collection of letters, mainly Pamela’s to her parents, which means that what the innocent Pamela ignores the parents interpret to her. In the first letters, she describes her master giving her presents ‘out of kindness’ and holding her hand. She genuinely doesn’t know was going on, or at least, is confused (some critics’ reaction: c’mon! it’s bloody obvious!), her parents have to tell her, as delicately as possible, why Mr. Booby is suddenly so kind to her.

The book is pretty funny in that sense, actually. Pamela’s first letter is so full of irony, at least to the reader, I was laughing the whole time. For example, when she writes that her master told her that he would ‘be a friend to you’, I thought ‘Yeah, friend’, and when he added that she ‘shall take care of my linen’ I chuckled; ‘ah, so that is what they are calling it now, “taking care of the linen”. Of course, it all depends on knowing the plot in advance, but it’s pretty obvious.

To sum up, it is a really interesting reading. It shows you how innocent people at that time were, for instance. As for the sentimentality of the novel, parts of it are very well written, so it’s more than bearable. The only problem is the redundancy in my opinion, and also that it’s really easy to parody. I couldn’t get over the part when Pamela tries to run away, but can’t because she confuses a cow with a bull. You can’t really take her seriously after that.

Roxane, the Fortunate Mistress.

Defoe’s Moll Flanders set the realism of the novel higher and was one of the first one to use an original plot. Besides, the narrator is a rather interesting woman, which was pretty original too. Roxana shares all this with its predecessor. Nonetheless, though the novel has its defenders, Moll Flanders is considered a better novel.

This might be partially because some early messy editions eliminate the ending or change it to a more moral and factual one, or, related to this, because the story is much more repetitive than Moll Flanders, except for the beginning and ending. Nonetheless, Roxana is a very interesting work historically speaking, since it gives us an insight to marriage and women’s state in the XVIII century.

Marriage in the XVIII century was a very precarious matter, even with the passing of the Marriage Act of 1753, which fixed the legality of marriage in England and Wales, excepting the religious minorities. In spite of this and parental interest, a wise marriage was still difficult to get. A woman’s property could be spent by the husband with no repercussion, as it is the case of Roxana. She finds herself abandoned with five children and no means of subsistence, so she becomes a prostitute and cleverly seduces rich men. This story points out the insecurity of women’s life; Roxana’s situation is much better as a prostitute than in her legalised marriage, hence the title; she is a ‘fortunate mistress’ bur she used to be an unhappy wife.

Actually, marriage would degenerate during the last half of the XVIII century and the XIX century, partially because it didn’t adapt itself to the economic and social changes, but instead adopt the morality of the middle classes. A married woman could be more independent in the XVIII century, being part of the family business, than a XIX century woman, who had to be even more careful with her reputation.

In general, Defoe’s Roxana’s main influence seems to be A Serious Proposal by Mary Astell, considered the first English feminist, and therefore the story defends education for women as a way to prevent the fate of Roxana. Also, the protagonist is a lively woman who never loses her strength of character, instead of embodying the degeneration of the XIX century fallen women. It seems as if there could have been an earlier advance of the feminist cause, but somewhere all that was lost for a long time.

500 Days of Summer and unnecessary happy endings.

I liked it, I really liked this movie. What is not to like? It’s funny, and weird, and has two songs by the Smiths and two songs by Regina Spektor! What is not to like, seriously? Well, my tireless brain found something: the ending.

Of course, many people, even fans of the movie, have problems with the ending. They say (ehem! Spoilers!) that finding a girl called Autumn and starting a relationship with her only means that he will go through the same thing again. Others even point out that he is obviously not prepared for a relationship. The implications go further: he won’t find true love till at least he goes through two other girls, Winter and Spring!

I just feel the ending was unnecessary, both because it was a subversion of romantic movies’ clichés (though there are some with unhappy endings, sorta) and because the themes were the contrasts between dreams and expectations and also romanticism and realism. He is romantic (because he misunderstood The Graduate or something) and she is more negative toward relationships because her parents divorced. OK, the reasons are not important, what is important is that they seemed to be changing their views for the other's. She marries a guy she hardly knows and he is emotionally scarred from their relationship.

And I liked that, until the last ten minutes of the movie changed it. I quite like stories where protagonists are trying to change the other’s view and both get their objective, so they can’t be together anymore. And paradoxically, they have succeeded. I loved the structure and the realism of the story, I mean she has had a ridiculously romantic story with someone else and is very thankful to his ex and he is alone but trying to get a job he actually liked. Up until the end, when he also gets a new girlfriend. Just because.

But actually I’ve had this problem with other movies. It’s like the executives behind the movie or even the writers thought we would not accept that the protagonist doesn’t get love, even if it has to be at the end of the movie and with a new character we’ll never know. I guess that happens with so many movies I should have expected it, but they sold this movie as  something different.

This reminded me of Notes on a Scandal, though this case was much worse. The protagonist was a stalker who has befriended her crush, and throughout the film sets her traps to isolate her from her family so she would have to stay with her stalker, without even knowing it was her doing. I liked this plot, it was intriguing and it got me to understand the villain-protagonist, but that doesn’t mean I need her to have a happy ending or even want it. And, won’t you guess it, after all the shit she has done has been discovered and she’s alone again, she finds a girl sitting on a bench and invites her to the opera. And the girl accepts. I just don’t get it.

Anyway, I loved the rest of the movie, I’m listening to The Smiths again all the time and humming some of his songs when not, and I’ll rewatch 500 Days again. But next time I’ll stop it before the necessary happy ending. I’m not really angry with the movie, but it got me asking why? Why do they think viewers need a happy ending, no matter how implausible or unnecessary to the story? Especially in biopics, or movies based in real life events, like El laberinto del fauno. Yeah, makis, you’ve killed the fascist vicious villain, guess what, all of you are going to lose and be persecuted, so I tremble thinking about the future of that baby you’ve just kidnapped.

Gulliver's Travels (well, the original title is longer, but I couldn't be bothered).

When I was a little girl, I read Gulliver. A version that was adapted for kids, of course. It was in Spanish, it rhymed and the best parts were actually the drawings. Later I read the book in Spanish, I saw the 90s mini-series and finally I read it in English; merely because I still didn’t know what to do with the ending (it still bugs me).  

 The first two episodes are the ones that get adapted the most, and that is not only because they can easily be bowdlerised into a children’s book, but because they are the best written parts and also the most easily understandable for a modern reader.  

Even though I didn’t know anything about 18th century British politics, I understood Swift was parodying petty political and religious differences. For example, when the Lilliputians fight against their neighbours because they have a disagreement over which end to open a boiled egg, I understood he was talking about Protestants and Catholics, though I didn’t know the details of the real conflict, and I enjoyed the story too; it was satirical but not so satirical as to distract me. I even liked Gulliver at that stage, even though he wasn't showing any emotions. 

Obviously, there are more correlations to the political situation of Swift’s time: Gulliver’s pacifism (what I most liked about him) is actually the reflection of the Tory government’s withdrawal from the Spanish Succession War and thus Swift defends his political ideals. Again it’s good for the story as well. 

Brobdingnag is a bit less memorable, but still enjoyable. In it, Gulliver and the European society are judged by that country’s standards, and since is a bit of a Marysuetopia, both are seen as “pernicious” and unnecessarily aggressive. Again, political satire that is comprehensible without ‘invading’ the plot and Gulliver develops as a character and becomes more thoughtful and mature. 

Also, for the moment the anti-feminism of the book is not too jarring (though I doubt if a book that was written before the feminist movement can be called anti-feminist; I think that misogynist or just misanthropic are better). There are a couple of female characters that are interesting, though undeveloped: the queen of Brobdingnag and Gulliver's nurse. Gulliver worships the queen (just imagining her 'graciously' letting Gulliver kiss her pinky was a very funny image when I first read the book) and adores her nurse (who even gets a name!), but he's merely considered an amusing toy by both. Also from that part of the book: 'I must confess no object ever disgusted me as the sight of her monstrous breast’. Well, I suppose it makes sense in context.

In the last two parts, Swift turns the satire to eleven. The third part is a bit funny sometimes, but most of the time I was thinking ‘but I like the scientists’. Or at least, I couldn’t see what was so wrong with them. There were no poor people suffering because they were all dedicated to interesting but useless experiments, though their wives were unable to be faithful to their silly husbands (and of course, of participating in the experiments). I know now that Swift was parodying the Enlightenment, which he loathed. Pity we normally agree is a good thing. No, actually it’s not a very good parody. What I mean is that, though Gulliver’s attitude toward the Laputians is very unsympathetic, most readers now won’t agree. Now the satire is completely lost, then.  

In the fourth part, the anti-colonist message, which has been implied in the other parts, is fully developed. The Houyhnhnms are super intelligent horses that have enslaved the yahoos, a race of primitive humans. The Houyhnhnms exploit the yahoos, and later decide to exterminate them, and rationalise both the exploitation and the extermination, using a very similar language to the imperialistic one. In fact, the yahoos are clearly established as ‘untouchable’ evil and as the ‘other’, as a matter of fact the word means “evil”. They finally decide to sterilise all of them, as Gulliver suggests (thank you, idiot. Oh, well by this point he is very unlikable). As you can see, Gulliver has completely fallen for the horses’ way, as opposed to Lilliput (too similar to the real England, I suppose) and Laputa (nice bilingual pun there). He ends up mad as a result, not knowing what he is and convinced that all humans are Yahoos and the horses’ way is the one true path. 

Some have commented that that happens when someone comes in contact with an imperialistic society, they try to identify themselves with the ruling class, no matter that they don’t belong to it, and can lose their identities in the process. Maybe that happened to Swift when he was first living in England, but later changed his attitude and decided to parody this behaviour. I don’t know, maybe it happened to Anglo-Irish like him. Therefore, I think that it is an excellent satire, but the novel’s aspects of the book suffer at the end. Or at least when I read it I thought it was too bitter a message, though maybe it was necessary. So at the end, Gulliver is back home, but can’t stand his family and past friends and only talk to the silent horses.  

Frankenstein, the 90’s movie.

Apart from the family and friends reunions, I’ve been relaxing on my own. I watched a movie I‘ve wanted to see for a long time, and finished a book in five days, something I haven’t been able to do since summer.

First, the movie I watched was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, though you better don’t think about the novel while watching it. The movie tries to be what Coppola’s Dracula was: a visually appealing film with a romantic story and a classical monster as its core, but utterly fails at it.

Actually a vanity project by its director, Kenneth Branagh, it shows. He casts himself as the young Victor Frankenstein, a young medicine student who immaturely decides to ‘conquer death’. I’ve mentioned his youth so often because Branagh seems to be too old to cast himself as Victor, a character whom he turns into an all-perfect, Marty Stu, bombastic hero, and just like that we’ve lost our protagonist. I, at least, couldn’t take him seriously, and his life is always serious: his mother dies, has a romance with his sister, searches for the secret of life and creates a monster. Without a moment of calm, in all that rush, I hardly know him and the beginning of the movie is boring when it’s not inadequately hilarious.

But there is actual comic relief of course, and the actor is fine, but the jokes are old and the friendship between him and Victor is showed in such a rush it’s like he’s never really there. In fact, he disappears from the movie in the last half hour, shouting a big NO in a house that few minutes later the monster burns (should we assume the worst?). But don’t worry; there are some emotions in the movie, some genuinely creepy emotions, too. Victor has an adopted sister, portrayed by Branagh’s real girlfriend, and though Helena Bonham Carter does all in her power, is still unpleasant to watch her snogging with Victor. Probably, it they wouldn’t mention constantly that they ‘used to’ be adoptive siblings and that they would love each other anyway. Seriously, they make a very big deal of their romance, though it becomes an important conflict at the end.    

The Monster, played by Robert de Niro, is barely in the picture. Which is a pity, because it could have saved the film. De Niro is wonderful, you can clearly see the effort, he could have changed the perception of the monster if given more time and better antagonists. But at the end, he falls for the hammy performance of Branagh in the too dramatic final scene.

If I watch this movie again, it will be with friends and for the laugh. I have even prepared a drinking game:

-        Take a shot every time Victor and his “sister” make out and an extra shot if they have recently discussed their sibling status.

-         Every time Victor does his laboratory job shirtless.

-         Every time someone shouts a big NO. every fucking character does.

-       Finally, take a shot for every scene Robert de Niro appears and almost redeems the film. Believe me, there aren’t many.

Merry Christmas!

I'd like to share this with you; it's one of my favourite Christmas "carols"; Bill Nighy sings a cover of Love Is All Around á la Robert Palmer for the film Love Actually. It's probably the only good thing in that film, but it's totally worthy. Love the way Bill Nihghy acts, like he's thinking 'Can I handle all these hot ladies? I'll try, it's Christmas'. Enjoy and remember, silly Christmas songs are the best!

Censorship in the XVIII century British theatre.

It seems that censorship was common since the XVI century; way before the Licencing Act, and opposition to it was almost non-existing. However, this early auto-censorship disappeared gradually and plays became bawdier and more explicit until the imposition of the Act in 1737.

After the Restoration, theatre became a very important business controlled by a few, at first friends of the king who didn’t know anything about the management of theatre. Of the two existing companies, the Duke’s company was more innovative and had less difficulty in keeping actresses and young actors and paying the playwrights; finally it absorbed its rival, the King’s company.

Prior to the Act, self-censorship was enough for a time, but in the 1670s sex comedies became the fashion. Before that, political plays had been often performed but the audience was scarce. However, the government started to practice censorship against the pro-Whig ones, closing companies and banning scripts.

After the Glorious Revolution, the United Company produces mainly ‘operas’ with impressive stage effects that, though successful, were too expensive for the company. The United Company changed management which reignited the split and rivalry between the two companies.

The resulting chaos and the political changes made the two companies stage new bawdy comedies of manners, very popular among the public. The damaging competition, problems with patents of old plays and the lack of new public tried to be solved with additional attraction: young attractive actresses with sexy outfits and slutty characters were included in many plays, acrobats and ballerinas in the entre-acts, … in the midst of all this, some voices against the immorality of theatre began to raise again. Censorship by the Lord Chamberlain was mildly tried, but it was ineffective. Writers like Congreve and Vanbrugh were very successful and the monarchs were very much against the closing of any theatre, though not because they liked it especially. Something to do with some Puritans in the past century, I guess…

Anyway, by the turn of the next century the rivalry between the two companies was almost over and translated Italian operas were the new trend. The Lord Chamberlain was now simply mediating between the actors and the management. In 1714, theatre managers got complete control to decide what plays to stage. But this wasn’t going to last.

In the 30’s, political satire became fashionable, due in part to the success of the Beggar’s Opera in 1728. The Walpole ministry became a bitter enemy of theatre’s right of choosing what to represent, especially because the playwrights tended to kill the Walpole-like character. Walpole tried to pass a bill in 1735, denounced satires and probably secretly staged a play attacking the king, The Golden Rump. This play was never staged and is now lost, if ever existed. However a cartoon of it was showed by Robert Walpole in the House of Lords, after the bill had passed through the House of Commons. The Act closed all non-patent theatres and required all plays to be approved by the Lord Chamberlain before being staged.

And thus, British theatre was changed forever. It also had the consequence of leaving actors at the mercy of the two main companies and led some playwrights to become novelists in order to avoid censorship. Both companies became predictable and new plays were hardly encouraged. Melodramas and pantomimes became the main representations and English theatre was extremely mediocre for a long time.

It seems that His Majesty had a huge ass in real life too.

Un pequeño poema.

Es un pequeño poema satírico que escribí basándome un poco en Pope y por haber tenido que ver Twilight dos veces. No es nada, pero el par de personas a las que se lo leí se rieron. Es más gracioso interpretado.

Pálida doncella sin pensamientos,
Guapa sin conocerlo, delgada
Que no anoréxica, delicada.
Al verle comienzan sus sentimientos.

Por las montañas de Forks va gritando:
"Oh, Edward! Oh, Edward!"
Y a lo lejos él le va contestando:
"¡Oh, Bella! ¡Oh, Bella!"

"¿Te casarás ya conmigo?"
"Sólo si me haces vampiro
Y conservo mi apellido."

En verdad creo que es más que de entender
Que Señora Cûllen no quiera ser.

Crinolines and hoops.

In Pope’s The Rape of the Lock there is a very powerful description of high class women in the XVIII century. They’re very beautiful, yes, but inactive, vain and stupid. Belinda actually breaks molds when she has a fit because her fiancé has dared to cut one of her locks. In fact, it can be said that was proto-feminist and all.

No, really. She’s the protagonist, she’s active at the end of the poem, and she’s perceived by other people and even the poet as a ridiculous young lady with no class (and PMS, as Pope so subtly suggests).

I’m not saying there were no intelligent women at the time. Even those who weren’t poetical genius weren’t dumb either. But their physical attractiveness was their only way to show some energy and stand out, so they (I mean high-class women) spent a preposterously great amount of time dressing up. Obviously, the clothes they wore were imprisoning them too.

The hoop at the time didn’t reach the floor, so women would be able to walk in very elegant short steps, and made them occupy the place of three people. Imagine the spectacle, one woman walking very carefully not to throw anything on the ground, unable to run, occupying a whole sofa, … it was like a walking cage. In fact, it reminds me of the Chinese noble women’s feet. Google that and look at the images; it looks worse than it sounds.

Pope is very ambivalent toward women, but he at least conceded some thought to that; women’s behaviour is not portrayed as entirely stupid; Clarissa is given a good monologue about common sense and humour (she also aides the Baron, so well… an ambiguous character) and Belinda has some psychological profundity, though the poet finally didn’t see the importance of the matter; he, at least, tried to understand why, instead of accepting the common theories of the time (do women have a soul? They really doubted it).  

Twilight IV, part 1.

I really enjoyed the first part of the movie, really. Kristen Steward in bikini, Charlie and Bella’s wacky friends appeared and they’re my favourite characters, Alice is definitely a fashion psycho (actually, it creeps me out),… all very funny and bullship, but hilarious. Apart from a ridiculously dramatic dream I was having fun. So were my friends, although they didn’t laugh at Jacob’s “Oh, no! My ex-girlfriend is marrying my worst enemy! What should I do?! I know!” and tears out his shirt very intensively. I loved the trailer just for that.

So, I was enjoying the movie, in a so-bad-it’s-good way, like with the 3^rd one (I found the first two boring; I’m not even very sure what happens in the 2^nd one), but suddenly, bam! Abortion! Yes, they actually tried to talk about abortion, being clearly against it. It’s not the moment! If only she had used protection! Or maybe his sparkly sperm is so potent it would have burst the condom?! I hated the rest of the movie, except for the very ending, but I’ll tell you later.

I love how kissing her looks so painful to Edward.

Really, my friends were horrified by the pregnancy and the birth. I’m used to some gore, but it was all new to my friends, one of them only sees romantic movies and comedies, and the other said she wouldn’t have sex in at least ten years. How does it dare to have a message?! I’m not against of it having a little moral, like “be yourself (no matter if you’re an obnoxious teenager, don’t grow up!)” or “choose true love (no matter if he’s an abusive asshole, he loves you!), that’s fair and simple; but a fucking dissertation about abortion! It’s not right, it’s just not right. Oh, and the boy Bella is constantly rejecting and giving false hope at the same time, well, it’s Ok, he gets the baby! Yes, he gets the baby that was trying to kill Bella. Despite there was already Leah (who everybody treats like Meg in Family Guy), well he discovers the joys of paedophilia. I hated that movie, not even Charlie or sexy Kristen Steward can redeem it.

Oh, and the ending is Bella waking up… and the credits start and the director of the film turns out to be some Bill Condon. I laughed at that, but was really angry. 

Happy Halloween!

Here where I live, celebrating Halloween is pretty new, and I’m too old for the Trick-or-Treat thing. Anyway, I love Halloween; it’s so much fun, back in Edinburgh I went to a  party dressed as a witch after seeing a parade of green and blue fairies and elves. It’s my favourite party after Christmas.

Unlike me, my sister hates it. She says it’s not our tradition and therefore we should not acknowledge and stick to our own tradition for this day, which I'm not very sure what it is about. I know it involves going to the cemetery and cleaning up the family tombs. Yes, that sounds like fun.

So, just after this argument with her, I went out and bought her a Halloween lollipop. That was as a prank, but you have to admit, it was a rather nice one. She couldn’t say anything other than thanks, and I think she’s keeping the lollipop.

What do you think about Halloween? I know it’s not really a part of our culture, but is that so important? 

Amistad, a movie by Steven Spielberg.

This movie has a very compelling moment in the middle, showing the horrors of a slave ship, and a powerful interpretation by Djimon Hounsou (Cinque), and to me that makes the movie worthy of a view; however the way history is portrayed and, in fact, just the choice of that particular episode of the American history may move the spectator to the wrong conclusions about the end of slavery in the United States.

Some simple anachronisms are easy to spot: Van Buren campaigning (presidential candidate didn’t campaign until 1860), the crew of the Portuguese ship speaking in Spanish, and some characters speaking of the Secession War as if it were a fact, twenty years before it happened. They bothered me a little, but don’t really matter.

It would have been better though to give the captives more focus, or at least subtitle their dialogue (only a small part is subtitled). The main characters are actually John Quincy Adams (Anthony Hopkins) and the lawyer Roger Baldwin (Matthew McConaughey), not the captives, of whom we only know Quince.

A fictional abolitionist is thrown there, played by the always excellent Morgan Freeman, who has nothing to do here, though. His role could be completely deleted; probably someone thought the movie needed to be more balanced or something. There is a scene between him and the white abolitionist, the ending of their friendship after the white abolitionist speaks about how the captives are more valuable to their cause dead is very powerful, until you realise they have been friends for years, so they would have talked about martyrdom before, in fact it was rather an acceptable view among white abolitionists, who were the majority, so I don’t see how all that rant about martyrdom could have been new to Freeman’s character.

I think the real problem here is that the Amistad case was not as historically important as it is presented in the movie, when in fact it was considered a case about property and the Atlantic slave trade, thus nothing to do with slavery at home.

I think Spielberg didn’t choose this event because it was significant in the history of slavery, but because he’s so fond of happy endings. The only bitter note of the movie’s ending is a short recognition of Cinque never finding his family, and among all the victory of the ending (including the destruction of the slave fort by the British, which actually happened five years later). I mean, Spielberg did a movie about the Holocaust, and somehow, he chose an episode that ended well! That can be partly the reason of his success, as the public prefer happy endings, but I think a movie shouldn’t need a happy ending, it should make you go home with something to think about, something to resolve by yourself, instead of an episode where everything is resolved.

The General’s King.

You might have heard of Daphne du Maurier. OK, maybe of her novel Rebecca, or at least the adaptation by Hitchcock. Well, she wrote many other novels and short stories, in fact Hitchcock adapted her novella The Birds and her novel Jamaica Inn. She was a master of suspense too.

The General’s King is one of her many novels and it has been frequently overlooked. It’s historical fiction, very well documented, set during the English Civil War; in fact many events of the novel really happened, especially the Cornish campaign, and the lack of power of Charles II, sympathetic to the protagonists but unable to help them. The titular character really existed; Sir Richard Grenville was really a royalist general, famous for his courage and his extravagant ruthlessness. He even tried secure Cornwall’s independence while he was at it, and lost many fortunes and women until the end of his days (and now, he has a Wikipedia entry). He is not the protagonist though, but the narrator, Honor Harris. She’s a Cornish noblewoman, and therefore, the point of view completely backs the Royalists and it’s more focused on Cornwall.

Du Maurier often writes the house when the main episodes of her novels happen as a real character. It was always her real home, called Menabilly and in Cornwall. In the novel, the house has its real name. There is a reason; what sets her narration was the founding of a skeleton in a secret room of the house, surrounded by Cavalier remnants.

Thanks to this novel, I know about the only Civil War in England as to not be at loss six years after reading the novel, since the story is unforgettable. The only problem is that it lacks the Roundhead (Parliamentarian) view. It’s however shows the cruelty of the Civil War; there is this brief scene when Honor passes through a field with men hanging of the trees, and realises that they are of the Parliamentarian troops, and it must be Richard’s deed, since he doesn’t believe in taking prisoners.