Girl Detective

I’m reading a manuscript a week for the novel class I’m taking, and I keep seeing two spaces after a period rather than one. This issue cropped up regularly at my last job, which was copyediting.

Two spaces after a period is a practice left over from the days of manual typewriters. Nearly all fonts in word-processing programs are able to ensure that one space after the period is sufficient for visual separation. Those people who continue to use two spaces end up with a document that looks off kilter.

Every time I bring this up, someone argues with me. When in doubt, I always consult The Chicago Manual of Style. Here is the answer from their website to the question of one space or two:

But introducing two spaces after the period causes problems: (1) it is inefficient, requiring an extra keystroke for every sentence; (2) even if a program is set to automatically put an extra space after a period, such automation is never foolproof; (3) there is no proof that an extra space actually improves readability…it’s probably just a matter of familiarity (Who knows? perhaps it’s actually more efficient to read with less regard for sentences as individual units of thought–many centuries ago, for example in ancient Greece, there were no spaces even between words, and no punctuation); (4) two spaces are harder to control for than one in electronic documents (I find that the earmark of a document that imposes a two-space rule is a smattering of instances of both three spaces and one space after a period, and two spaces in the middle of sentences); and (5) two spaces can cause problems with line breaks in certain programs.

So, in our efficient, modern world, I think there is no room for two spaces after a period. In the opinion of this particular copyeditor, this is a good thing.

is the only CD from the library I have liked so well that I intend to purchase it. Low, a trio from Duluth, has traditionally had a sleepy sound. Not anymore. Destroyer sounds like the band members have woken up, and boy, are they angry. Mesmerizing.

8. Auto Focus. 2002. Directed by Paul Schrader. A biopic of Bob Crane, star of Hogan’s Heroes. Greg Kinnear plays Crane, who leveraged his likeable, charismatic screen persona to fuel an ever-more-seedy sex addiction, central to which was a need to capture his encounters, first on film and later on the emerging technology of videotape. He was aided in his recording fetish by a friend, played with credible creepiness by Willem Dafoe. The movie deftly shows how Crane became what he did, making stupid choices and alienating everyone in his life. The drawn out descent to his strangulation in a hotel room, though, plays like every addiction story, ever, so the end is not only depressing, but it also feels flat.

I am simultaneously drawn in and repulsed. Do I give in to girlhood nostalgia and pay homage to my sleuthing forebears? Based on this description from Amazon, I think not.

Follow the clues to mystery, adventure and thrills as Season One of the The Hardy Boys Nancy Drew Mysteries comes to DVD for the first time ever! Teen sensations Shaun Cassidy, Parker Stevenson and Pamela Sue Martin star as brave super-sleuths in 14 spooky episodes loaded with spellbinding action and smash-hit pop songs, including Shaun Cassidy�s #1 hit “Da Doo Ron Ron.” Inspired by the hugely popular books and with an amazing lineup of guest stars, including Jamie Lee Curtis, Mark Harmon, Bob Crane, Rick Nelson and more, it�s no surprise that The Hardy Boys Nancy Drew Mysteries is an open-and-shut case for fun!

7. Punch-Drunk Love. 2002. Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson. Not romantic. Not comedic. Not as clever as it thinks it is. Not recommended.

6. Sideways. 2004. Directed by Alexander Payne. A funny, touching, skillfully executed mismatched-buddy movie. The acting and characterizations are great, and it’s pretty to look at. Sitting under dimmed chandeliers at the Heights theater, munching alternately on their surprisingly tasty popcorn and Junior Mints, I remembered why I love going to the movies. I still, however, have no idea why it’s called Sideways.

5. Real Women Have Curves. 2002. Directed by Patricia Cardoso. It seems as if my husband G. Grod and I are in the extreme minority of those who didn’t love this film. I appreciated that the main character Ana stood up to her bullying mother and did not apologize for or try to hide her curves. I thought the “strip” scene in the sweat shop was fantastic. Overall, though, there were no surprises in this movie. The writing was sometimes painfully earnest, the boyfriend was utterly non-complex, and there were several moments in which I became aware of Ferrara the actor rather than Ana the character. Its heart is in the right place, but the execution is–no pun intended–too thin.

On a side note, I saw this film about embracing non-conventional beauty standards in the same week that I read Us Weekly’s “20 Best Body Makeovers” issue, which I purchased for the Oscar coverage. In my opinion, nearly all of the twenty women looked better before, i.e., heavier. There was a lot of plastic surgery (I find Jennifer Lopez nearly unrecognizable these days), and a lot of suspiciously unhealthy-looking weight loss.

I had just worked up the resolve to stop watching several television shows when I found out that A & E would be re-running episodes of the spy show MI-5, (titled Spooks in England) of which I’d read several good reviews. It hooked me with the first episode. Well-plotted and well-paced, it didn’t pull punches. It had the kind of complex darkness that I often bemoan the lack of in American television.

My husband and I recorded and watched all of season one. We got midway through season two, but now there are no more episodes airing. We’re left with a conundrum. Should we wait for A & E to run the rest of season two? Splurge on the DVDs with birthday money, even though we’ve seen most of the episodes? Check with local rental places to see if it can be rented? Sign up for Netflix again just to rent those? I already checked the libraries. It’s only at the suburban library, and we’re 19th on the wait list.

The voice of reason in my head says we should wait, and not do anything rash to acquire season two unless we’ve got episode one of season three queued up and ready to go. The ender for season one left me wide-eyed and agape with sorrowful disbelief. I hate to imagine if we hadn’t been immediately able to watch the next episode. But the other voice–the one that has elected Matthew MacFadyen Boyfriend #3 and that can’t wait to find out what happens–is getting harder to ignore.

FYI, Boyfriend #1, and Boyfriend #2. My husband G. Grod is both tolerant of and amused by my crushes.

Later. Good news: Matthew MacFadyen is going to be playing Mr. Darcy. Bad news: He sounds like a jerk, and the ubiquitous and rather cloying Keira Knightley will be Elizabeth Bennett.

One of the things I didn’t like about On the Waterfront, which I saw last week for the first time, was director Kazan’s messianic symbolism for main character Terry Malloy, played by Marlon Brando. Later, thinking of the Matrix movies, I wondered aloud if there was a tendency for Christ figures in movies to be not very bright. My husband G. Grod countered quickly that Paul Newman was no dummy in Cool Hand Luke. I’m having trouble coming up with more examples, though, either pro or con. Is there a tendency for lunkheaded Jesus characters, and if so, why?

13: Empire Falls by Richard Russo. Boy, they don’t just hand the Pulitzer out to hacks, do they? This 483-dense-paged book took me a whopping twenty days to read, but was well worth it. Russo’s characterizations are so lifelike they’re almost spooky. He skillfully juggles a huge panoply of characters, all of whom are complex, intriguing and believable. There are many jumps back and forth in time, but his narrative is so firmly anchored that I never felt a jot of confusion, even when reading at my most fatigued and distracted. Utterly satisfying and highly recommended.

The library is like a good friend, with whom I occasionally fall out of touch. As a child, I was a faithful library patron until I ran afoul of some mean librarians in middle and high school. Curiously, the mean high-school librarian had also been the very nice fifth-grade librarian, who always helped me to pick out books. By the time I hit ninth-grade, there was no evidence of her former solicitude. The mean librarians conjuncted badly with a string of ineffective English teachers, and my love of reading got shunted down unfortunate roads. It was years later, in college, that I stumbled back into the public library in search of non-crappy books.

Soon, though, I was seduced by non-crappy books with pretty covers in bookstores. My favorite stores, in D.C. circa 1990, were Ohlsson’s Books on Wisconsin Ave. in Georgetown, and a place near DuPont Circle or Adams Morgan, the name of which I’ve forgotten. (It was an indie that had a coffee shop way before this became the norm. I’ve been trying to recall the name for some time; I think it might be well and truly lost.)

The middle of the decade found me with high debt and lots of unread books. Upon reflection, it is quite likely that my periodic re-engagements with the public library coincide with dips in my personal fortune. Once again, then, I find myself patronizing my local library.

The Minneapolis Public Library has an extensive collection, and a wonderful online catalog. It is easy to search and to reserve items, which can then be sent to the branch nearest to me. I can run in, grab my items from the hold shelf, use the self-serve check out, and I’m done in a trice. I reserve books, CDs and DVDs. The library sends me an email when my items are in, and a reminder before they are due. Renewals can be done online or by phone. Minneapolis also has reciprocity with the more affluent suburban libraries, so even in the rare instance that an item I want isn’t in the city system, I can usually still get it.

I’ve long thought that cookbooks and CDs are items best tried before buying. I now think this holds true for most books. With limited funds and storage space, I only want to house books that I love, and that I am likely to read, or at least refer to, again. The library, for free, allows me to try a book, movie, CD or magazine. If I love it, I can seek it out for purchase. Even if I discover that my reading reach exceeds my grasp, I can return the item with no penalty by its due date, and attend to it at some later date. All of this allows for more room on my shelves, and less in my wallet.

I have taken on a 50-book challenge for the year, and have just decided that, although it’s the middle of March, I’m going to give myself a 50 movie challenge as well. I got off to a slow start, but am catching up fast. I need to pace myself, though, so I don’t burn out by going famine to feast! One to two movies a week doesn’t sound unreasonable. Feel free to join me by watching movies, then writing about them on your weblog.

1. In Good Company. 2004. Directed by Paul Weitz. A quiet, steady little film, surprising in its avoidance of several cliches that seemed inevitable. Strong performances by Topher Grace, Dennis Quaid and the ubiquitous Scarlett Johansson.
2. Million Dollar Baby. 2004. Directed by Clint Eastwood. Solid movie that ended up not being a sports flick after all. It nicely avoided some cliches, but had a few dodgy bits, like Maggie’s too awful family and a bit at the end that I won’t mention for those of you who haven’t seen it yet. The music really bothered me. I found it sentimental and intrusive. Excuse me, Clint, but can’t you be satisfied with directing and acting?
3. The Long Goodbye. 1973. Directed by Robert Altman. Elliott Gould as Phillip Marlowe. A performance Adam Brody should be aspiring to–a cool, grownup smartass. Features a hilarious bit in which Marlowe, being carried off by somebody, yells that he’s going to contact Ronald Reagan, then the governor of California. A few scenes later, who should appear, in an uncredited part sporting a sleazy mustache, but the current governor of California? Weird. Funny.
4. On the Waterfront. 1954. Directed by Elia Kazan. Brando is stunning, and it was a kick to finally hear “I coulda been a contender!” in context. The movie can be read as an extended apologia for Kazan and others like him who named names during the McCarthy hearings. But there’s a difference between a whistle blower and somebody who points the finger during a witch hunt; unsurprisingly, the film doesn’t draw this distinction.

For those of you in the Twin Cities, the Oak Street Cinema is celebrating its tenth anniversary this year, and has some fabulous films on the schedule, including some that I haven’t seen from the Centenary Cinema List I mentioned earlier, like The Rules of the Game, Breathless, and Ugetsu.

6: Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. A graphic novel memoir of a childhood in 1980s Iran. The iconic black and white art effectively conveys a girl’s-eye view. By turns funny, thoughtful and tragic. For more information, see this Bookslut interview with the author.
7: The Best American Non-required Reading 2002 edited by Michael Cart and Dave Eggers. A high-caliber collection containing both fiction and non-. I enjoyed a high percentage of the entries, uncommon in a collection, particularly “Stop that Girl” by Elizabeth McKenzie, now part of her recently published novel of the same title, which was reviewed here at Conversational Reading. CR also did a review of a review of STG.
8: Doing It by Melvin Burgess. An English boy coming-of-age novel and the basis for the likely-to-be-cancelled series life as we know it. Funny, likeable characters with distinct voices who are realistically yearning for and agonizing over sex.
9. Rush Hour Volume 1: Sin edited by Michael Cart. Again, a very strong collection. I was mesmerized by Terry Davis’ “The Silk Ball,” which interwove Cambodian theology with a tale of modern military violence.
10: Rush Hour Volume 2: Bad Boys edited by Michael Cart. I went to see Michael Cart at a conference, which is why he is well-represented here. Yet again, a strong collection. I found “Joaquin Years” by Edward Averett haunting, and was intrigued by Robert Lipsyte’s essay on jock culture.
11: Girl by Blake Nelson. A coming-of-age novel that was published to an adult market in the mid 90s but featured a high-school senior protagonist. I skipped this book when I saw it the first time, but picked it up after reading a recommendation at Avenging Sybil, a blog that focuses on sexual themes in YA literature. Girl is somewhat dated, but engaging, and Nelson (who is male) writes a believable girl narrator in Andrea. I found the characters emotionally thin, especially Andrea; I don’t know if this was deliberate. Parts of Girl were previously published in the late, lamented Sassy magazine, including the very strong chapters in which Andrea works at a summer camp.
12: The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things by Carolyn Mackler, which I previously wrote about here.

Our 18-month-old son Drake is not immune to bookish delights. Here are some of his current favorites.

Clive in black leather.

This is what my friend the Big Brain joked once when I admitted that it had been a while since I’d seen a movie. Years later, I now know what a true movie dry spell looks like.

I had a hard realization two weeks ago when I looked at the Oscar ballot. I had seen none of the films that were nominated in the big categories. In fact, I’d only seen two that were nominated for anything at all: Spider-Man 2 and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. They were good, entertaining movies, but still.

I used to consider myself a film buff. My husband G. Grod and I own two movie guides, the Videohound’s Golden Movie Retriever and the much better, though less comprehensive Time Out Film Guide. Tellingly, it has been at least two years since we’ve replaced our copies. During the opening montages on Oscar night, I recognize most of the clips. For several years, I read the British film magazine Sight and Sound. I watch Ebert and Roeper At the Movies every week, even if I don’t go see the films they talk about. After our son was born, though, everything changed. We had the same three Netflix movies for three months. We finally returned them, unwatched, and cancelled that service.

I know what the issues are. My husband and I don’t have a baby sitter, and aren’t looking too hard for one while he’s unemployed. By the time we put our son Drake to sleep, we’re often so tired that it requires herculean effort to do anything more than collapse in front of our Tivo. We watch a lot of television, which doesn’t leave much room around the edges for movies. Too often we’re not in the mood for something dark, or that’s over two hours.

It’s time for this to change; I don’t like that I watch more television than I do movies. Step one is to watch less television. I’ve already cut out three hours a week: Simpsons, Scrubs, House and Joan of Arcadia. They stopped being worth my time. Step two is for my husband and I to trade childcare, so that one of us watches our toddler Drake while the other goes out to see a movie. I prefer to see movies with someone rather than by myself, but I’d rather see a movie by myself than not see it at all. Eventually, we will get a babysitter. But until then, there are still ways to see a movie. We just have to work a little harder at it than we have been for the last eighteen months. Movies (or, at least, good movies) are worth it, so we will.

My favorite top 100 movie list is ten years old, but I think it has aged well. Interestingly, I don’t think that this year’s Oscar winner for Best Movie, Million Dollar Baby, would make the list if it were compiled today. I thought MDB was good, but not great. Was there another movie, American or not, made last year that was great, and would be included in a top 100 list? I’m not sure, because I didn’t go to the movies last year. I plan not to be so ill-informed next year.

The Independent asked 100 British literati to name their favorite fictional characters. (Link from Bookslut.) Jane Austen’s heroines did very well. I also smiled to see two of my childhood favorites, Anne of Green Gables and Enid Blyton’s George.

If I had to pick one favorite fictional character, though, it wouldn’t be a female. It’s Billy Prior, from Pat Barker’s trilogy that included Regeneration, The Eye in the Door, and The Ghost Road.

What fictional character means the most to you?

Please note that the phrase in the title refers to a very different thing than “religious fiction”.

After I posted yesterday’s entry, I thought of a few more works of fiction about religion that I recommend:

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
Bee Season by Myla Goldberg (the far superior Bee book, in my opinion, to the one I mentioned in yesterday’s post.)
Original Sins by Jamie Delano
The Sandman Vol. 4: Season of Mists by Neil Gaiman
The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman
A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L’Engle
Angels and Insects by A.S. Byatt

Recommended to me but not yet read are books 2 and 3 in the Pullman trilogy, and Towing Jehovah and Only Begotten Daughter, both by James Morrow.

I am having a hard time coming up with movies that include religious themes that I think are well done. “Angels and Insects” was good but not great, and “Possession” was able to be a decent adaptation of a complicated book because it deleted most of the book’s religious themes.

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

An Alex Ross illustration of Super Grover.

Courtesy of The Beat’s coverage of Toy Fair.

I like coming up with theories. The good thing about them is that I feel no obligation to scientifically test them. The bad thing is that I occasionally get egg on my face if I expound on one of them to someone learned enough to call my bluff. One of my current theories is that some books and movies with religious themes are better reviewed or liked than their overall quality deserves because while many people have quit institutional religion, they still crave religious engagement of some sort.

The most famous current example is Dan Brown’s The DaVinci Code, a hugely popular best seller, but widely acknowledged to be poorly written and sensational. Other books that I think fall into this category are The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, and Life of Pi by Yann Martel, both of which I thought held little merit other than perhaps some religious ideas that might be interesting to those who didn’t know about cults of Mary (Bees) or how many similarities there are in different religious traditions (Pi). I had to strenuously avoid The Red Tent a few years back; many women recommended it and tried to lend it to me. I was constantly told, “The writing’s not good, but the ideas are.” Thanks, but I avoid bad writing if I can.

I was reminded of this theory most recently after reading a few glowing reviews of the movie “Constantine”. And they weren’t by blurb hacks, either, they were at The Flick Filosopher and BOTH the Minneapolis Star Tribune and the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Thank goodness the City Pages panned it or I would’ve thought something seriously strange was going on. I’m not going to see “Constantine” because I’m certain that it’s bad. My guess is that the good reviews are a result of some people’s hunger for religious stimulation.

I found it interesting that Roger Ebert dismissed “Constantine” as merely silly. I suspect that Ebert, who often discloses his Catholic background and its influence on how he views certain movies, is actually pretty sorted vis a vis his religious views.

In the interest of similar disclosure, I think I’m immune to the pull of works like these because I’ve spent a lot of time studying religion. I minored in religious studies as an undergrad and went on to get a master’s degree in it. I don’t think it’s impossible to write well about religion or religious history. I just think that one needs to write well to do so.

Here are a few books that I feel pull that off.

A Letter of Mary by Laurie R. King
Possession by A.S. Byatt
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving
The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

What do you think of this theory? Am I full of it? What other books or movies do you feel are provocative about religion AND well done? Or what other examples come to mind of bad books and movies that were inexplicably well reviewed? I’d love for this entry to spur a heated discussion, even if I end up with the aforementioned egg on my face.