Books, Movies and Random Thoughts

Mr. & Mrs. Smith was quite a fun film. The dialogue was generally amusing, and some of the action scenes were good. Others were a bit drawn out, though – especially the big one at the end, which was way too long and not particularly interesting anyway. Overall, I probably would have preferred rather more dialogue and character interplay, and rather less uninterestingly-filmed combat. In general, not too bad; but disappointing because it could – and should – have been so much better.

Ethan of Athos is not one of my favourite Bujold books set in the Vorkosigan universe – it doesn’t have Miles in it, and I’m not particularly grabbed by Ellie Quinn. Allowing for that, however, it’s a reasonably fun adventure story, with enough twists to keep you on your toes. But even the most plot-driven of the Miles stories seem to have extra depth to them, because of Miles’ personality (or maybe it’s just because he’s so hyper, whereas Ethan, although a well developed character, is very staid). Also, although the settings (Athos and Kline Station) are not uninteresting, they’re both a bit conventional – unlike, say, Cetaganda.

Brothers in Arms is also more plot-driven than character-driven – unlike the next few in the series. It’s more sophisticated than, say, Warrior’s Apprentice, but I don’t think it even comes close to the depths of Memory. Though because it introduces the characters of Mark and Duv Galeni, it’s pretty crucial to the series as a whole. I find it hard to make up my mind how much I like it for itself, and how much because it’s setting up the later books that I really like.

I find the concept of a mercenary fleet having an accountant totally bizarre, and yet at the same time completely logical.

I absolutely adored Saffy’s Angel, and really liked Indigo’s Star. While I certainly didn’t dislike Permanent Rose, on a first reading I’d rate it below its prequels (though considerably above the other McKays I’ve read).

I think my problem wasn’t so much with the story itself, as with the fact that it seemed to undercut the earlier books. Maybe I should re-read Saffy’s Angel before saying this, but I strongly suspect that the revelations about Saffy’s background in Permanent Rose had not actually been invented when she wrote Saffy’s Angel. Also, I was unhappy about the way Derek had completely and utterly disappeared off the scene since the end of Indigo’s Star. And the Caddy/Michael relationship was a lot less fun than in the earlier books. In fact, the book as a whole seemed rather darker, and less funny.

Permanent Rose may grow on me – I know I liked Indigo’s Star a lot more the second time I read it – but I don’t think there’s any danger of it displacing Saffy’s Angel as my favourite in the series.

According to his website, George R. R. Martin has now finished writing A Feast for Crows. Yay!

The bad news is that because it came in very much over length, he has had to cut it in half. The decision he made is to include material set in Westeros, King’s Landing, the riverlands, Dorne, and the Iron Islands in this book, and leave the material set in the east and the north until the next book (A Dance With Dragons). In principle, I think this is a good decision; but unfortunately it means that the two characters I’m most interested in (Arya and Tyrion) probably won’t appear in the book at all. On the plus side, this decision means that A Dance With Dragons is now half finished, so maybe we won’t have to wait another five years to find out what happens.

In other good news on the book front, the copy of Permanent Rose (Hilary McKay) that I had reserved at the library came in. When I went up to borrow it, I also got out To the Nines (Janet Evanovich – a Stephanie Plum story) and The Last Temptation (Val McDermid – a Tony Hill story). I think the three of them make an interesting contrast – even more so when you throw in Brothers in Arms (Lois McMaster Bujold), which I am currently re-reading.

And speaking of Bujold, I am very excited about the fact that Michael has picked up a copy of The Hallowed Hunt while he is in the US. Coincidentally, he arrived within a few days of the book’s release.

I actually saw Revenge of the Sith over a week ago, but I have been flat out updating fencing websites (Challenge Australia, Commonwealth Fencing Federation and NSW Fencing Federation), as well as preparing Circular 2 for the Australian Universities Fencing Championships, so I haven’t had time to write it up.

To do this film justice, it was better than Episode I and Episode II. And the special effects were great. But the story just … wasn’t. I felt utterly unconvinced by Anakin’s slide into the Dark Side – and, to be honest, I didn’t really care. He seemed more like a sulky little boy, stamping his foot because he couldn’t have cake and chocolate, than like a grown man struggling with conflicting emotions and loyalties. I honestly think George Lucas just doesn’t get tragedy – doesn’t understand what it is that makes, for example, Macbeth a great play. Like I and II, this film took itself far more seriously than the original trilogy, but I didn’t feel there was any real substance behind its ponderousness.

Episode I was just generally awful, and Episode II, while it had some good bits, also had some positively nausea-inducing scenes. This one, though, was funny – right up there with Mission: Impossible II in the number of times I had to stifle laughter at scenes that were meant to be taken Seriously. (The trailer for Alexander had much the same effect, although it didn’t inspire me to actually see the movie.)

A few other random general comments (which do contain spoilers):

• With all the amazing technology, why don’t they do ultrasounds at any point in a pregnancy?
• Why don’t the terrifyingly high walkways and balconies have guard rails? Has nobody ever accidentally stepped off the edge?
• Given that a replacement Death Star was built between the end of Star Wars and the start of Jedi, and since the first one was well underway at the end of this film, why did it take so long to finish it?
• It’s a pity there was no Han Solo cameo. I have no idea how much older than Luke and Leia he is, but there has to be at least 5 – 10 years (Harrison Ford is apparently about 9 years older than Mark Hamill, and 14 years older than Carrie Fisher). So surely a 10 year old Han could have had a brief appearance somewhere.
• I think between them, Obi Wan and Mace Windu completely mishandled Anakin, and they are partly to blame for his failure to see through Palpatine’s transparent attempts to manipulate him.
• And what was Obi Wan thinking of, to just walk away and leave Anakin dying slowly in agony? Surely if he cared for him, he could have made it a quick finish – or at least, stayed with him to the end. Or, if he thought Anakin was irretrievably gone to the Dark Side, he should have killed him. But to just walk away and leave him is either incredibly callous, or totally stupid – or both.
• Why did they wipe Threepio’s memory (for no readily explained reason) but not bother with Artoo? Maybe it means that those beeps are actually just random noise, and he can’t really communicate with anyone (so it therefore doesn’t matter what he knows).

Someone on Girlsown posted a link to a book meme at Online Learning. (If you follow the links back from the site, you may find where the meme originated. Or you may not – I gave up after a while.)

The instructions are:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.

The closest book is Tops and Bottoms by Noel Streatfeild. Since I am writing my Uni treatise on Streatfeild, all her books are handily shelved on the bookcase nearest my desk, and this one happened to be at the end of the shelf. The fifth sentence on page 123 is the rather uninspiring “Beaty looked ashamed of herself -“.

Tops and Bottoms is definitely not one of the better Streatfeilds, and I’m not actually referring to it in my treatise, but it was the closest book to hand. At least, it was the closest book to my left hand. The closest book to my right hand was the Dreamweaver 3: Using Dreamweaver, but I’m not sure that a several-versions-old software guide really counts as a book; and, in any case, it was about four centimetres further away than Tops and Bottoms. Amazingly enough, at this precise moment in time there are actually no books lying on my desk – the ones that were there about an hour ago are currently in a pile on the floor. Had I not cleared off the desk, you would have got a sentence from Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception – or maybe Booktalk: Occasional Writing on Literature and Children.

This was such a fun book!

I think I first heard it described as “Jane Austen meets Harry Potter”. Well, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell was also described that way, and I found it turgid to the point of unreadability. Sorcery and Cecelia was anything but. It’s a series of letters between Kate, in London, and her cousin Cecelia, in Essex. In both locations, Evil Doings are Afoot, involving a stolen chocolate pot, a beautiful neighbour, a missing brother, a charm bag … and two dashingly handsome (if frustratingly enigmatic) young men.

Coincidentally, just after I finished it, I discovered it was the Galaxy Bookshop Fave Rave in their April 2005 Nexus. Stephanie, who wrote the review, said it was “Jane Austen with magic”, and even considered whether or not you have to be familiar with Austen to appreciate it (which you don’t). I can only assume that Stephanie has never come across Georgette Heyer, since anyone who has will recognise her influence on the writing. I can’t really see any significant Austen connection beyond the time period (and it’s much more Heyer’s Regency than Austen’s), and maybe the epistolary format (which Heyer never used – the only published Austen that uses it is Lady Susan, but the first drafts of both Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice were apparently written in this style).

The book is actually dedicated to Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer and J. R. R. Tolkein. I would say that while Austen and Tolkein have given the authors much joy and general influence, the most direct connection is with Heyer. It’s not as good as Heyer – it’s a sort of “Heyer-lite” (with magic). It’s actually being marketed as a Young Adult title, and I think this is the right call, although I can’t put my finger on exactly why it feels YA in a way that Heyer doesn’t.

I have a nasty feeling Heyer wouldn’t have approved of this book. In The Private World of Georgette Heyer (Jane Aiken Hodge, 1984) there is an extract from a letter to her publisher about an imitator:

I feel compelled to protest against the injustice done me by the author in omitting my name from her list of the works to which she declares herself to be indebted. It might well take the place of Jane Austen’s, for while no one would suspect [the author] of owing anything to Jane Austen it must be obvious to many besides my unknown informant that she owes to me plot, incidents, character, several surnames, and such examples of Regency slang as she has used.” (p. 145)

Sorcery and Cecelia does owe a couple of names and a great deal of Regency slang – plus a general Regency world view – to Heyer. On the other hand, the authors do acknowledge her (though I gather this wasn’t the case with the first edition of the book). Also, of course, the magic component means that it’s not actually a Regency Romance.

Another factor is that it wasn’t originally intended for publication. The two authors were simply playing the “letter game” – writing to each other in character, and making up the plots (without consultation) as they went along. It was only after it was finished that they realised it might be publishable. This makes the Heyer pastiche aspects of it more understandable – and it’s such a key part of the writing style, that I honestly don’t see how it could have been excised when they were preparing it for publication.

So maybe Heyer wouldn’t have objected to it. I’d like to think so, anyway.

Having read this book from the library, I have now ordered my own copy of the book, and of its sequel, The Grand Tour, which I’m really looking forward to reading.

* Actually, the full title is Sorcery and Cecelia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot: Being the Correspondence of Two Young Ladies of Quality Regarding Various Magical Scandals in London and the Country

Kingdom of Heaven’s visuals were great. The characterisation was thin in the extreme (people were either Good or Bad – there was nothing in between). The plot was a bit dull.

Before seeing Democracy, I knew as much about post-War German politics as I did about British Rail before seeing The Permanent Way. So I have absolutely no idea how accurate a portrayal it was of the personalities involved. However, it was a compelling piece of stagecraft, and regardless of whether or not they were true to life, the characters were interesting. It was quite strange to see a play with ten characters, all of them male.

By a fluke, this was the “Night with the Actors”, where after the performance the actors come back on stage and answer questions asked by any of the audience who have cared to stay for it. They said that the number of characters, the pace of the dialogue and the speed of exits and entrances made it almost like playing a farce – except, of course, that the subject matter was totally different.

Unfortunately, I didn’t quite get up the nerve to ask a question. I would have liked to know how Paul Goddard felt about his part. He played Arno Kretschmann (Guillaume’s Stasi controller), and he was onstage for almost the entire play, but spent most of it off to the side, observing the action. The only character he actually interacted with was Guillaume. I’d be curious to find out whether this makes it more or less draining as an actor. I’m inclined to think it would be more so – having to stay focussed the entire time, but mostly without dialogue to support engagement with the character.

It was a completely different sort of play from Copenhagen (the only other Michael Frayn play I have seen), but just as worthwhile a night at the theatre.

It’s always tricky seeing the film version of a book you love (and yes, I know Hitchhiker’s was a radio play before it was a book – but it was the book that I first read and loved). I find it interesting to see how close the filmmakers’ vision of the book is to my own interpretation. Normally there’s something to like, though this can often be outweighed by the aspects that just seem wrong.

I loved this film’s version of Marvin. He looked a lot more like “Your Plastic Pal Who’s Fun To Be With” than the one in the TV version (though it was nice to see that one having a cameo in the film). And when you add that to Warwick Davis’s depressed slump, and the ironic world-weariness of Alan Rickman’s voice … well, I’ve never had a strong visual impression of Marvin before, but I think this one will stick with me.

I read one review that said Martin Freeman was perfect as Arthur. Well, that’s just silly. The only person who is perfect as Arthur Dent is Simon Jones. However, I ended up liking Martin Freeman more than I expected. He wasn’t Simon Jones, and he wasn’t quite middle-class enough, but he did seem to capture the essence of Arthur. The rest of the main cast were a bit more disappointing. Ford’s part was cut right back, and Zaphod was a bit too over the top (though I’ve never been much of a Zaphod fan). I quite liked Trillian, although the development of the relationship with Arthur meant that she was fundamentally a different character.

I guess I can see why they built up the Arthur-Trillian relationship, though I don’t think it was really necessary – I think the film would have still had a good linear plot without it. However, having decided to put it in, I wish it had been a bit less conventionally bland: it was pleasant enough, but it didn’t have the slightly offbeat nature of the Arthur-Fenchurch relationship in So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Overall, it wasn’t a bad film. Much of the classic Adams stuff was there (though it’s a shame they dropped “on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying Beware of the Leopard“), and some of the new stuff was fun – especially the Point-of-View gun. If I’d never read the book, I would probably rate the film higher than I do – certainly, it was funny and enjoyable. But it just didn’t have the offbeat zaniness of the book, which was disappointing. In spite of the cheesy special effects of the TV version, I think I preferred that over the film – though neither of them will ever take the place of the book.