Girl Detective

I found OMG, Shoes at Big Brain Comics, and had to have it. It’s an illustrated ‘zine-style shoe memoir by Sarah Morean, in the manner of Ilene Beckerman’s Love, Loss and What I Wore. Morean uses pencils and watercolor to detail 44 pairs of shoes, with a sentence or two about their history.

It’s a charming little book, made even more so by its deliberately cute black faux-lizard soft cover and assortment of decorative bindings. I chose a simple pink bow, but there were faux pearls and other pretty, shiny options. At $5, it’s a bargain; I feel like I went shoe shopping in someone else’s closet.

Today’s my birthday. Forty-one, and even though that sounds “old” to me, I don’t feel it. Emotionally, at least–I have some early morning and post-yoga aches that make me humble and remind me to slow down. I also wish my other February birthday friends (so many of them!) health and happiness as this month comes to a close.

I’ve had a lovely day thus far, despite an oncoming cold. We began the day with a family snuggle, then I had my favorite breakfast–two cappuccinos, with a cherry pomegranate toaster pastry AND Stella d’Oro breakfast treats. G and the boys went out so I have time to myself this morning to read, write, journal, use my light box, do yoga and my hand labyrinth, and be amazed by the well wishes pouring in.

I feel very grateful today, for life in general and the specifics–my husband G, our kids 5yo Drake and 3yo Guppy, our community in Minnesota, family and friends both far and wide, real and virtual, present and absent, and for all who helped in ways big and small during my post-partum depression three years ago, part of my ongoing journey toward balance.

I feel more than a bit stunned by it all, and deer-in-the headlights when I think how impossible it would be to express all the gratitude to all those I feel it for. This quote, by Elizabeth Gilbert from Eat, Pray, Love, helps me feel a little less overwhelmed:

In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.

I am saying thank you, right now, today, and I’ll try to keep on saying it however I can. Namaste.

At the Millions, a comparison between the American and UK editions of some of the Morning News 2009 Tournament of Books contenders. (Link from Morning News, of course.)

I am actively stifling my urge to go to amazon.co.uk

But I’m going to keep an eye out at Half Price books; often the UK editions will turn up used or as remainders. That’s where I got UK editions of Harry Potter One and Two, Bridget Jones’ Diary, and the lovely HC of Special Topics in Calamity Physics (still unread).

(See how I finagled that? I HAD to go to the UK amazon to get the links for the UK editions. Heh. I did not shop, though. Yet.)

I’d like to thank the Academy for a shorter, more entertaining Oscar show this year. I’d also like to thank my husband G. Grod for enabling my pre-Oscar movie-watching compulsion. I saw SEVEN movies. In SEVEN days. Talk about indulgence.

G and I watched The Visitor together. It might not have been his pick for the flick to watch on his birthday, but we both enjoyed it. Richard Jenkins is winning in this quiet movie about a lonely man moved into engagement by the people he meets, and the injustice of post-9/11 US immigration laws (or lack thereof). It’s an excellent rental.

Then we did a complete 180, like a U-turn on the Batcycle, and watched The Dark Knight. 5yo Drake and 3yo Guppy were difficult about going to bed. I’d wanted to start watching early, since it’s so long. Oh, well, I thought. We’ll just watch part of it. Ha. As if. Two hours and forty-five minutes later… Dark Knight is loud, scary, provocative, in your face–the antithesis of a quiet movie. Thus, I find it kinda perfect for the times. Great plot, character, actors, etc. This WAS one of the best movies of the year, no matter what Oscar said.

Then I hijacked my kids in my Oscar compulsion and we watched Wall E. And were amazed all over again. Animation? I don’t think so. Science that looks like magic? You betcha. Remember all the critics who wondered if kids would like it since there was no dialogue for most of the movie? Watch it with a kid. The kids GET it. They LOVE it. How can you not? Best movie of the year? For me, yep.

Next was The Reader. Woo. Another movie mash-up whiplash. I saw it at St. Anthony Main, not usually my first pick of theaters, and there was an enormous night-before-Oscars line. But the staff did a great job–moved people through efficiently and with smiles, and delayed the starts of movies so no one missed out. As for the movie, I don’t think the world needs another Holocaust movie. Or another movie that shows that people can do horrible things but still be good people. Ooh, look, it’s complicated. However, Winslet is still living in my head in that role. Even though her turn in Revolutionary Road seemed technically better, her role in The Reader has quietly insinuated itself into my head.

Then, after weeks of attempts, I finally made it to the ONE theater in town showing Rachel Getting Married. It was a lot darker, and less funny, than I expected. It felt exactly like attending an often-uncomfortable but still happy wedding weekend. But the performances, especially Hathaway’s, were more than worth it. Hathaway completely embodied her haunted, selfish, struggling ex-junkie, hatchet-hair, slept-in-my-kohl-liner look. She’s played an ingenue before? Coulda fooled me. Rosemarie DeWitt (Midge from Mad Men) was appropriately loving and exhausted as her long-suffering sister. But Debra Winger was the surprise standout for me–so cold and brittle I felt frost-bitten just watching her.

At which point G. Grod thought, “whew, the Oscars are tonight. She’ll stop going out all the time.” Then he looked at the calendar, and said, “D’oh!” Because last night was Take Up Productions noir double feature at the Heights, with Criss Cross, and The Killers.

I blame my friend Kate for my compulsion to mix Dots and popcorn, but thank her for the guilty deliciousness. As for the films, there weren’t a lot of happy endings for Burt Lancaster and his femme fatales, but their pain was our gain. Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite manage 3+ hours of movie, and was nodding off by the end. I’m off to look up the ending to The Killers, and rest up for the next double feature, The Blue Dahlia and The Glass Key, in two weeks. The Big Clock is next week. Other than that I’ll try to give G. a break and switch gears back to reading, and transfer my consumption compulsion to the books for the Morning News 2009 Tournament of Books.

The fifth installment of the wildly entertaining Scott Pilgrim YA graphic novel series, Scott Pilgrim vs. the Universe, finds our hero battling not one but TWO of girlfriend Ramona Flowers’ evil ex-boyfriends.

Ramona: Is he OK in there?

Kim Pine: C’mon. He’s Scott Pilgrim.

Party Host: A tiny robot is kicking this guy’s ass, if anyone wants to watch.

Scott not only has to battle robots, but deal with Ramona’s reaction after a revelation from teen nutcase Knives Chau. Silliness and sadness ensue. Scott continues to be an endearingly clueless and inept hero. The aura of mystery surrounding Ramona grows both figuratively and literally. And the next book sounds like it will wrap up the series.

O’Malley notes at the end that this is the only book so far he’s gotten in by deadline. I also think it’s the best-done to date–the plot is tight, as is the art. Nothing feels rushed or sloppy. I hope O’Malley can maintain the momentum for a strong ending to this story. Scott deserves a good ending (one I’m thinking won’t have him dating Ramona), even if not a happy one.

News on the upcoming movie, directed by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz) with Michael Cera playing Scott: parts of the film may be animated, which should make the fight scenes really interesting, as well as provide some of the wacky whiplash that helps define these books.

This Gun for Hire was the first show in Take-Up Productions‘ new film series, “From The Vaults of Universal: Seven Classic Film Noirs”, on Mondays in February and March 2009 at the Heights Theater in Minneapolis. It starred Veronica Lake, in her famous side-parted -do, and introduced Alad Ladd as hitman Raven, who utterly stole the film.

Willard Gates: Raven… how do you feel when you’re doing [indicates murder headlines]…this?
Philip Raven: I feel fine.

From the screenplay by Graham Greene, Raven is in trouble after he’s paid for a hit in marked bills. Not only are the police after him, but so is the man who double-crossed him. Lake becomes involved in the complicated case that involves chemical weapons, spies, blackmail and murder. The plot is much less important than the look, performances, and atmosphere, which melt into a powerful whole.

The noir formula is turned on its head; Ladd is more of an homme fatale, while Lake is the innocent drawn in by her attraction to him. Ladd is best in the first half of the film, when he is inscrutable and unpredictable. Toward the end, his character explains his history, and I found the end manipulatively redemptive.

Next Monday is a double feature, Criss Cross and The Killers. The shows start at 7:30pm, but get there early. The Heights was nearly filled on Monday night, and the shows might sell out. Also, be sure to leave time and money for the Heights’ excellent popcorn, which you can get with real butter.

My husband G. Grod’s birthday is today. He was only 23 when we started dating, and met my family a few months later when he came with me to my sister’s wedding, which took place on his 24th birthday. He was an excellent date for the wedding–a helpful and calming presence in the midst of my even-more-tightly-wound-than-usual family. My family and I discussed doing something at the wedding to recognize his birthday–a toast, a dance, anything. Then the wedding happened, and we totally forgot.

We forgot his birthday.

Thank goodness for friends Buffy and Ace, who did celebratory shots with him during the bride and groom’s first dance. The next day, he was very gracious about us having forgotten.

That was thirteen years ago. We continued to date, got engaged, married, moved to Minnesota, and had 2 boys, 5yo Drake and 3yo Guppy. We’ve done pretty well, I think. Perhaps in part because I’ve never forgotten his birthday since.

Is the title an oxymoron?

From Half-Price Books:

The John McPhee Reader
David Copperfield
Hamlet
One Good Turn by Kate Atkinson
Nicholas Nickleby

From Big Brain Comics:

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Thank goodness I gave up that silly “I need to stop buying more books” vow.

Links are to available copies at amazon, not necessarily the edition pictured.

or, why movies are more likely to be great in the theater than at home. (Link from The Morning News.)

Studies have indicated that Elevation is triggered by the stimulus of our vagus nerve, described by Wikipedia as the only nerve that starts in the brainstem and extends down below the head, to the neck, chest and abdomen, where it contributes to the innervation of the viscera. It must be involved in what we call “visceral feelings,” defined as “relating to deep inward feelings rather than to the intellect.”

The vagus nerve would certainly account for what I feel, which is as much physical than mental. For years, when asked “how do you know a movie is great?” I’ve had the same reply: I feel a tingling in my spine. People look at me blankly. I explain that I feel an actual physical sensation that does not depend on the abstract quality of the movie, but on–well, my visceral feelings.

It still sometimes shocks and disturbs me how many tiny details my husband G. Grod recalls from the original three Star Wars movies. I saw Episode 4 in the theater when it opened, but didn’t see the other two till they were re-released in theaters in the nineties. Prior to that, my summary of the trilogy might have gone something like Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn’t seen it), and I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. But even I laughed at this. A lot. I can only imagine how funny it is to the rabid fanboys. (Link from Boing Boing.)

One of the things I love about How I Met Your Mother are the jokes, and especially the jokes that pay off for long-time viewers. I haven’t been watching from the get go, but I have been watching long enough to see jokes start and get paid off much later.

One thing I didn’t know, though, was that a scene from earlier this season had a secret, political agenda, as revealed by HIMYM star Josh Radnor (who, like me, is from central Ohio) in this very long interview. (links from ALoTT5MA) You can read all the interview, just scroll to the end, or read this:

The speech was to be YouTubed in case the presidential election went the other way. It suited the storyline, but I’m impressed with the cleverness of how it could have been repurposed, and really happy it didn’t have to be.

It was with some trepidation that I bought tickets for the Guthrie’s staging of Shakespeare’s Henry V. Branagh’s 1990 film is a favorite of mine; I think I saw it a half dozen times in the theater. And I was underwhelmed by the last two productions I saw at the Guthrie: A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Jane Eyre. So I was more than pleasantly surprised to discover that this production, by The Acting Company/Guthrie Theater, was a treat.

This play, with multiple addresses to the audience exhorting them to imagine, was well set in the black-box Dowling Studio. The staging was spare but effective: a two-story semicircle with moving walls, and a few rolling tables that doubled as props and sound makers. All actors but the lead played multiple parts, from two to five. Matthew Amendt, as Henry V, can be forgiven for not doubling; he was in almost every scene of the 2 hour, 50 minute play. His youth and good looks suited him for the part, and though he struggled a bit with the Welsh accent and had a tendency to over-enunciate, his delivery and presence were a good match for the charismatic new king. The rest of the cast, moving in and out of parts, and throughout various iteratrions of their multiple-zippered garments, were equally strong. William Sturdivant as Fluellen, stood out particularly for his presence and delivery. In only one instance did I confuse one player’s characters. Overall, the speed of their changes coupled with the effective switches in character was both impressive and just plain fun to watch.

The scene in which Katherine learns English was staged strangely, with several of the cast used as demonstrative props. For me, it didn’t gel with the mroe straightforward storytelling of the rest of the production. But the scene at the end of Harry with Katherine more than compensated. Amendt and Kelly Curran were funny and sweet in one of my favorite scenes by the Bard.

This production starts in Minneapolis and will tour the US. It’s worth seeking out. If you’re in the Twin Cities don’t dawdle; it’s only here until 1 February 2009.

Only a few reviews are out there. Here’s a pro, and a con.

Oh, I am filled with geek joy. Not for the NCAA tournament, but for the Morning News Tournament of Books 2009! They’ve published the contenders (see below), and you can become a fan at Facebook.

Care to join me in nerdishly obsessing over some of the best books of last year? I read along with the tournament last year, and found some of my favorite books of the year. I’ve only read one from this year’s list–My Revolutions by Hari Kunzru–but it was a good one. And several others were already on my TBR radar. I’m off to scan reviews and load up my library request queue.

The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga

2666, Roberto Bolano

A Partisan’s Daughter, Louis de Bernieres

The Northern Clemency, Philip Hensher

The Lazarus Project, Aleksandar Hemon

My Revolutions, Hari Kunzru

Unaccustomed Earth, Jhumpa Lahiri

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, E. Lockhart

Shadow Country, Peter Matthiessen

The Dart League King, Keith Morris

A Mercy, Toni Morrison

Steer Towards Rock, Fae Myenne Ng

Netherland, Joseph O’Neill

City of Refuge, Tom Piazza

Home, Marilynne Robinson

Harry, Revised, Mark Sarvas

Were I to judge Michael Chabon’s Maps and Legends by its fabulous cover (one of the best of last year), I would guess it to be geeky, beautiful, layered and complex. In other words, generally pretty awesome. This book, like its cover, is pretty on the inside.

Given, I’m a geek who reads comic books, and a fan of Chabon’s writing; I’m predisposed to like this book. His Mysteries of Pittsburgh was a pivotal novel for me; it made me want to be a better reader, and seek out better books. I had an embarrassing moment with him at a signing a few years ago* that seemed only to cement my crush on him.

But enough about me. To the book.

Maps and Legends is Chabon’s first collection of essays. In it, he writes about subjects as varied as Sherlock Holmes, comic books, planned communities, children’s literature, and golems. He ties these disparate topics with a shared theme of blurred boundaries, most often between truth and lies, reality and imagination.

Because Trickster is looking to stir things up, to scramble the conventions, to undo history and received notions of what is art and what is not, to sing for his supper, to find and lose himself in the act of entertaining. Trickster haunts the boundary lines, the margins, the secret shelves between the sections in the bookstore. (p. 26)

Fond of subjunctive clauses, Chabon’s writing is challenging in an energizing way, spurring this reader on to further thought, related reading, and flights of fancy. I was reminded of the essays of dear, departed David Foster Wallace–erudite AND entertaining, though Chabon’s book has far fewer footnotes. I’m not sure the book would be as entertaining to non-geeks, but I found a great deal to appreciate.

*Another amusing (to me, at least) story from the signing. My friend and former bookshop co-worker Kate DiCamillo was there, too. Her book, Because of Winn Dixie had recently been released, and had not yet won the Newbery Honor award. Before Chabon’s reading, she saw a woman walk by holding Winn Dixie, and offered to sign it for her. The woman looked at Kate oddly, unsure if she was who she said she was, but handed over the book. Kate whipped out a pen, signed the book and handed it back. I wonder if the woman remembers the incident, and wonders at the encounter with the soon-to-be-well-known author.

In his essay, “Kids’ Stuff” from the collection Maps and Legends, Michael Chabon notes that comics as an art form has gained credibility but lost readers:

Days when comics aimed were [sic] at kids: huge sales. Days when comics are aimed at adults: not so huge sales, and declining. (p. 90)

Children did not abandon comics; comics, in their drive to attain respect and artistic accomplishment, abandoned children. (p. 91)

Chabon offers a number of suggestions to rebuild the legacy of comics for kids. While the number of monthly comic books for kids, especially younger ones, is small, there are a few standouts, as well as other comics to be found for kids at the comic store. Until the selection of comics swings back in favor of the kids as Chabon would like, here are a few of our family favorites:

Bone by Jeff Smith
The Adventures of Polo and Polo: the Runaway book by Regis Faller
Chicken and Cat, and Robot Dreams, by Sarah Varon
Silly Lilly and the Four Seasons by Agnes Rosenthiel
Jack and the Box by Art Spiegelman

Michelle Slatella, in the NYT, on reading like a girl:

But there is one thing I notice my daughters doing when they hang around the house that makes me ache, with a terrible yearning, to be young again. They read.

Or more precisely, they read like I did when I was a girl. They drape themselves across chairs and sofas and beds – any available horizontal surface will do, in a pinch – and they allow a novel to carry them so effortlessly from one place to another that for a time they truly don’t care about anything else.

The link is from Mental Multivitamin, who accompanies it with a (qualified) book recommendation. Mmv wonders, “Can you still read like a girl?”

Still? I never _stopped_ reading like a girl: one book at a time, fiction preferred because of its transporting qualities. I’m a more critical reader than I was as a girl, and more selective. But I’m no less ardent. I often distinguish between books I love, especially ones that aren’t necessarily great, and ones that are good, even great, but that I don’t love.

Cory Doctorow, a writer for the site Boing Boing, has written a solid young-adult techno-thriller for geeks in Little Brother. If that makes it sound like it’s for a narrow audience, it’s not. Marcus is a teen hacker who lives in San Francisco and likes playing online games with his friends. When SF is hit by terrorists, though, he’s picked up as a suspect by the Department of Homeland Security and bad things happen to him, his family, and the city.

Then the door at the back of the truck opened and there was fresh air–not smoky the way it had been before, but tinged with ozone…The man who came in was wearing a military uniform. A U.S. military uniform. He saluted the people in the truck and they saluted him back and that’s when I knew that I wasn’t a prisoner of some terrorists–I was a prisoner of the United States of America.

Marcus decides to fight, though, which raises the tough question of whether subverting authoritarians makes life more or less safe, in general and from terrorism.

Well paced, with concise and understandable explanations for non-geeks, this is a thoughtful provocative novel about the problems of privacy and free speech. I was strongly reminded of Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon, as well as the work of Bruce Schneier; both are named in the bibliography. Little Brother also reminded me of Godless by Pete Hautman.

It contains a few unsurprising YA tropes, like the geek boy intimidated by the sexually aggressive girl, withholding and later revealing key information to parents, a weaker sidekick/buddy, and a cool, outsider adult who helps. Also, there were were a handful of editing errors that slowed my reading–was his mother’s name Lillian, or Louise? But overall, it’s a rousing story about civil rights and ethics in the internet age.

Does anyone else wish for extra categories? Here are ones I’d like:

Mild Acquaintace
I Hardly Knew Ye
Former Enemy, Now on Probation

I didn’t manage to see Across the Universe in the theater, though I wanted to. It would have been quite something on the big screen. But I enjoyed the 2-disc DVD a lot, in spite of the very mixed reviews when it came out.

Across the Universe is a musical about young lovers in NYC during the Vietnam era with songs of the Beatles as references and dialogue for the movie. The director, Julie Taymor, has a background in puppetry and theater; she created the stage version of The Lion King. I watched and was wowed by her films Titus and Frida, which convinced me along with The Lion King that I’d see anything she did. It might not be great, but even if it were a mess, it would be a spectacular, brilliant, mesmerizing one.

I found Across the Universe kind of messy in parts. Taymor’s vision was sometimes too out there and the movie slowed in the middle. But the talent of the mostly unknown cast, along with the sheer spectacle of the movie combined with oh-so-familiar music that was produced in ways that brought new aspects to it–all of these made me love Across the Universe. I was strongly reminded of the films of Baz Luhrmann. I watched each of the making-of extras, and they gave me an increased appreciation for this flawed but wonderful film. As the choreographer noted, it’s a film that’s surreal yet playful, as well as powerful and poignant.

Other reviews: New York Times
Roger Ebert
Entertainment Weekly
Village Voice
Chicago Tribune

Edited to add: I’m hugely excited about Taymor’s current project, especially because of her creative casting of the lead role.

In David J. Schwartz’s Superpowers, five college juniors in Madison, WI throw a party, drink beer and pass out. When they wake up, they don’t have hangovers, they have the superpowers of the book’s title: super strength, speed, invisibility, telepathy and flight. The book wonders what would happen to real kids in the real world if suddenly blessed–or is it cursed?–with superpowers.

Superheros is an older teen novel, featuring college protagonists struggling with real-life issues, in addition to their new problems. It’s also an introduction to superhero culture, perhaps best for fans of shows like Heroes or Smallville who haven’t yet become comic-book readers. I don’t think I’m the target reader; I’m too familiar with comic books dealing with similar themes, from early Spider Man and X-Men to Alan Moore’s Watchmen, to more recent comics like Powers and Runaways. For less geeky readers than me, though, this is an enjoyable young adult what-if tale.