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Sunday 31 January 2010

Obssession, etc

R.I.P J D Salinger from Friday. At the age of 91, no less. Well done sir.

I wasn't actually aware he was still alive: when an author like that goes into reclusive hiding, most sensitive literature fans get the hint. (Alright, so I wanted to stalk him, go and bang on his door, and then cry about the broken record and how I always judge people by how they clip their fingernails, but I've not yet made it to America.) It was strange to suddenly be reminded of him, however, as he had been preying on my mind anyway. I was reading The Collector, by John Fowles, which very much has the same vibe as Catcher does, not simply the lonely male protagonist but the tone of skewed and warped perceptions, and a deep oppressive feeling stemming both from the situations of the characters and their own trapped, introspective mindsets.
Ironically the main character in The Collector is compared to Holden Caulfield by his captive, and is convinced, by her, to read the book, although he is unimpressed. Book within a book, it's all very clever. Could be seen to be labouring the point somewhat considering I had drawn those conclusions anyway, but it's part of the beauty of the story that the increasingly sociopathic captor of a young woman entirely fails to see how he could be similar to this other powerful example of alienation.
Also interestingly, the entire novel is set in Lewes, so I may well be grabbing my bike by the handlebars and my Ordnance Survey map by the plastic outer bit, and having a scour of the countryside. If I think I find the cottage I'll GoogleMap it up here.

Saturday 30 January 2010

There's Something Special Going On

If you're familiar with Simone Weil (and I wasn't til last week) then she is most definitely worth a look. Although I disagree with a lot of her theological directions (as an atheistic type, I'm not keen on needing to have spiritual nourishment of a particular sort to necessarily be kept away from base desires, but I will elucidate another time).
I do however feel profoundly strongly over a lot of what she says about the human condition, or human nature, I'll be discussing it on Monday with some friends so hopefully can settle on the correct phrase for it. What we are and how we feel.

This is something she said about love, and I find it terrifyingly true of how I feel when I love someone:
"Love on the part of someone who is unhappy is to be filled with joy by the mere knowledge that his beloved is happy without sharing in this happiness or even wishing to do so."
The ability to feel happy when knowing that those you love are happy... I think that's one of the most important things in life.

Monday 25 January 2010

Updatey

So, my new years resolutions.
Well, I dont think I'm my mother, so far so good. I'll never really be able to tell, I suppose, unless my brother points it out to me when we're both in our 50s. But I don't think I'm on the road to have kids. Thus far in my life the people I have fallen most in love with have shared my views on that subject, so I imagine if I ever did 'settle down' with anybody, kids would be the last thing on the agenda. That way, at least if I did become my mother I'd only be inflicting it on my hapless partner.
Managing my diabetes is actually going incredibly well, which is pleasing. I'm still not on track all the time - my jobs really take it out of me so if I'm not careful I start wanting sugar highs all the time. But there have definitely been days where avoiding sweet things has meant I don't want them. That sounds a bit sketchy, but it's only been a few weeks that I've really been working on it. I'm definitely finding out what I eat that can have the amount of sugar in it halved, and without those sharing it with me complaining either. That reminds me, last week I made a rather good blackberry and apple pie. I haven't heard back from one of the recipients of a slice, but considering the rapidity at which I saw the rest of it consumed by Tom, I think it was a winner. It wasn't just because he's Northern and likes pie, at least. I'm getting very good at pastry, soon I will venture into more elaborate stuff methinks. I'm also experimenting with the bags of frozen berries you can get from supermarkets - great for smoothies, a nice nutritious and slow-burning source of deliciousness, if only we had a blender that worked...
Finally, toning down the crazy. Well, it's all going onto this here blog instead, by my estimation. I can't necessarily say that, just under a month into this year, I've managed to be that well-behaved. But I'm showing serious signs of looking after my own well-being much more, not just physically but emotionally. I know I can torture myself over silly things but I'm learning how to a) harness the silly into some nice writing and b) get advice from other people about why I'm not wrong in the majority of my behaviour.
Essentially, I'm hiding my heart, and hoping that the right person comes looking. And that's difficult for me, because there is very rarely a lack of someone in my life that I would readily show my emotions to. This time, I am empowering myself to have the freedom to move slowly. And it's funny, but it allows you a lot more hope. Either something happens because you slowly build on these wonderful feelings, or something doesn't happen because those wonderful feelings build into a friendship. I genuinely have never taken this tack before. Scary but overwhelmingly exciting.

Sunday 24 January 2010

Haiti

I got a bit of teasing/sarcastic admonition recently for over-excitedly announcing the return of Puppy-Cam when Haiti was a far more pertinent and important piece of news. I don't have a didactic angle here and I'm not going to comment on any particular aspect of the tragedy, but I guess I want to mention it because, well, it's happening and no matter the levity of everything else I talk about, it's at the forefront of many many people's minds at the moment.
Tomorrow I'm going to submit a story for this project:
100 Stories for Haiti
Although I presume that the calibur of material will mean mine probably won't be selected, in which case I'll post it up here. Also I wish I had known about it earlier, to recommend to other writers out there! But I'll also post up a link when the book becomes available, so please think about buying it.
Also go here to donate to the Haiti Earthquake Children's Appeal.
We're all thinking of you.

Saturday 23 January 2010

Enter The Room

I have a few things to write up so may be able to fit in more than one post today. But first things first.



If you haven't seen the emotional, visual and lyrical masterwerk that is Tommy Wiseau's The Room, get on it right now. Plot is immaterial (/non-existent), as instead the story overridingly resonates with the agony of the Hamlet-like Johnny, played by Wiseau, and his Beckett-esque struggle with his cruel fiance Lisa, all set in the claustrophobic atmosphere of their small but luxurious apartment (I would say the claustrophobia is mainly due to the limited budget, resulting in the tiniest sets you've ever seen). Well, anyway, I won't spoil any potential viewers the mind-altering experience of watching it, but I have compiled some guidelines, based on rigorously close watching, studying, and expansion of the Tommy Wiseau Techinque, in order that we might grapple with the genius and possibly bring his irreproachable methodology into our own work, stilted and flawed though we are in comparison. Hopefully as I continue my explorations more will emerge. I think I could get a pretty comprehensive list out of it.
Edit: While researching this post I found another with further excellent commentary - When Good Robots Go Bad

Tommy Wiseau's Guide to Writing, Producing, Directing, and Starring in a Film.

  • So that your audience will relate to them easily, give your main characters names that are short, simple and familiar: Johnny, Mark, Lisa ... Denny.
  • Never break the fourth wall by looking towards the camera. If you are particularly struggling with this, the best technique is to never fully open your eyes.
  • Why try and put into words what can be expressed magnificently through a more subtle expression of feeling, such as a walrus-like croon or some drawn out, throaty moaning?
  • Sex scenes are necessary but can be arduous and embarrassing for ingenues and younger actors. Feel free to subtly recycle footage so that excess shooting is not needed.
  • It's important to tackle serious issues within your script, such as drugs and cancer. To encourage the audience to autonomously consider these difficult topics long after the film is over, it also helps to never provide catharsis or mention them again.
  • Slow jam.

Monday 18 January 2010

Goodness Knows

My friend introduced me to the wonderful website spEak You're bRanes, which goes some way as an antidote to the Daily Mail (and of course The Guardian itself). It includes the wonderful comment generator:
The Twat-o-Tron

Also this weeks' philosophical debate is: Does music have an extraneous quality which transcends all other art forms? I think yes but I'm going to try and pursue other people's opinions throughout the week.

Thursday 14 January 2010

It's the little things

Oh thank the lord someone else wrote this, because now it doesn't look like I'm complaining:
That super cute quirky girl from that movie
Seriously, if I have to deal with one more of these characters I'm going to start shooting girls who wear knee-high socks and any kind of faintly retro headgear on sight. I get tired enough of the debate surrounding the word 'cool' without wondering if I have to be 'quirky' too. She is as much of a pain in the arse as the rest of us, just aloof to boot.

In other news, I have found, well, either further evidence of how mal-adjusted I am, or a wonderful way to deal with rejection. I have to point out, this is where it all gets a tad personal, but only insofar as I wonder if anyone (who isn't me and the friend who I came up with this alongside) would find it at all funny. In essence, another friend of mine (and I would like to stress, we are still friends) recently explained that we would never become an item because I "just hadn't bowled him over". After a few distraught discussions with others it became apparent to me that honesty was not entirely the best policy at that moment, and this particular phrasing was an understandable onslaught to my self-esteem. Don't worry though, because after I foolishly and tearfully watched Breakfast at Tiffany's alone (hence the collision of a hatred of magical man-magnet quirky girls and romantic, happy endings), it gave birth to:

THE "*NAME DELETED TO THINLY MAINTAIN DIPLOMACY* RUINS FILMS" GAME

"Where will I go? What will I do?"
"Frankly my dear, you just haven't bowled me over."

Skyline of city explodes
"Martha... you just haven't bowled me over."
Where is My Mind starts playing

and the current favourite:
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... They just didn't bowl me over"

Maybe I'm bitter - but I did find it hilarious.

Wednesday 13 January 2010

Light to Write

I'm so excited about this, I think it's an incredibly brilliant idea:

Coachwerks Space for Writing

I've been doing a lot of writing lately but I'm unsure if it's publishable. Some edited phrases might pop up now and again. I am, as may have become clear over the past few days, exploring matters of the heart.
In other news, I've been making loads of soups. Had a bash at leek and potato last week and did carrot and coriander yesterday, which was rapidly devoured by me and two friends. Still, feeding three people on about £2 worth of veg, not bad eh? Not sure what next week's soup will be: I'm eschewing the baking as it's too expensive at present. At least, I'm waiting for someone's birthday til I bake again.

Also, hey, it's my first feature!!!!
Star Wars Bands

Monday 4 January 2010

Hopeful New Year

I should not be allowed to blog whilst in such a maudlin mood. And also, my goodness, 2010 is flying by already. I'm going to try and do a minimum of one entry a week, depending what I get up to.

Anyway, here is some more cheerful stuff, hooray!
I was loaned (lent? leaned?) a copy of By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept. I haven't been crashed into the earth by a book in such a long time. It's one of the most stunning things I've ever read and I'm beyond greatful to the person who lent it to me. (You're a hero, Tom!) That said, I'd recommend it to anybody with any kind of heart or mind. The complete raw rendition of a love affair, a love affair that never truly happened, floods effortlessly between the metaphysical agony of the woman's feelings and the physical reality she is trapped in, first watching the woman who is actually married to her lover, remembering the times when she and her lover were together, enduring the trials of going home and the court case for her adultery, and finally living, alone, shamed and pregnant, in a kind of exile from her love. If you've read and enjoyed (you better had) The Scarlet Letter then this is going to be for you.
The unedurable ecstacy of being in love, the despair and the joy, the ridiculous struggle between the reality of living and the desire to sink wholly into a void of emotion: it's all a bit wow. I won't try to equal the language here, because I've never read such a powerful encompassing of the way the heart can take over the entire world. Thoughts and impulses and feelings I didn't think could be expressed with the vulgarity of words on a page and she bloody did it. I wouldn't say I've loved that way, but I recognise the beginnings of it in my own experience, and it has value far beyond what personal knowledge you may have locked in your head. I implore you, read this book.

Sunday 3 January 2010

Ignoring the New Year

It's amazing how evocative scent is. I used a shower gel that an ex had given me way back in the first year of uni. It was an incredibly gorgeous, expensive one, so I used it sparingly, and then for a long while stopped using it because I was worried about what that scent would do to me again. This was, of course, much much time after a long, slow, painful breakup.

And I actually found the same brand in an outlet shop for ridiculously cheap the other day and got some more, and the moisturiser as well. And I dont know, I shouldn't have used it the day I did. I was sick with fear anyway. Trying to know what to do with my heart. Its little broken pieces. I cant seem to protect it, I am compulsively unable to give myself the distance it so badly needs. The plaster cast would be built of a wall between a friend and me. It would hurt so much more, and so much less, at once.
And I couldn't help thinking if I partly couldn't sleep because that moisturiser, that smell, was the smell on my skin in my first year of uni when i was with Jonny, regret of my entire life. Half-forgotten and irrelevant and still somehow, a Voldemort-like presence. I hate any one of my friends who mentions him, but skirts him, in that hedgey way as if I'm still not over it. Yet I can feel the confusion if I say his name, divulge a memory. The feeling of 'If you've moved on, Nicole, why are you bringing him up?' Well, he was heavily involved in two years of my life. It would be unhealthy never to talk about him, despite the lack of influence he had over who I am and what I really am, despite the years I spent doing everything romantic or fun with other people because he was so absent.
I cant deny, he's the reason behind so much deep pain that has yet to go away. The reason I'm full of mistrust, the reason I think that whenever someone seems at all distant towards me I fall into despair/freak out.
So was it the scent, or is it the knowledge that the deeper wounds he gave me are still hurting today through the influence of other people?