08.31.08
I’ve mentioned PostSecret before in this blog, about a year ago. I try to catch it every Sunday. The concept is simple: Here’s a postcard, put your secret on it in whatever manner you wish, mail it to the wind (in this case the wind is a man named Frank who lives in Maryland, the keeper of secrets).
The response is astounding, and I mention it because this week’s was especially touching. There was one in particular that I’m positive I must’ve sent in my sleep, but alas I cannot take credit for its succinct poesy:
The flip side to this postcard are the words: “Ironically you’re also afraid of deep water. Do you ever think of me when you’re swimming?”
I felt a little stabby thing in the heart when I read that—to the implied question within it.
Anyway, I play mindgames like this all the time, completely irrational and mostly as a self-defense mechanism. A friend of mine spotted a concurrent habit when he was helping me manage my time last semester: my brain automatically places tasks in a certain order to be completed, not necessarily the most sensible or efficient. I must finish a task completely before starting another—in short, if it were a list I’d need to be able to cross it off. At the end of the day, my brain sees a checklist, and if I’ve finished 70% of Task A and 40% of Task B and 30% of Task C, it still sees three unfinished tasks and I call that day a failure.
I call a movie a “film” if I like it and has substance, and a “movie” if it’s popcorn entertainment. No reason for this, self-imposed differentiation. “Film” sounds more artistic, “movie” more commercial. Why?
Perhaps it’s like when we were small and we wouldn’t dare step between the cracks of the sidewalk for fear of breaking our mothers backs. It’s not quite superstition. And not quite cultural or societal standards. It might be individual standards, the little rules we make for ourselves, or how we justify or compartmentalise things. Like “If I run around the block today, I can have that piece of cake.”
What a lovely metaphor on the postcard, though, and I hope the intended addressee says “yes.”
08.29.08
Spoilers! You are forewarned. Not that it would detract from anything.
I know I’ve certainly heard of Elizabeth Gaskell from Sherwood’s recommendations, especially since I’ve recently formed more than a passing interest in the Victorian Era. The other day, I was watching a YouTube fanvid of period men, when something caught my eye – I kept seeing the film North and South mentioned, and of course I had to seek it out.
North and South is a BBC miniseries based on Gaskell’s novel, a total about four hours long. From what I know of BBC adaptations, it follows the book very closely – and when I get my hands on it, I’ll have a more concrete opinion. From what I know of the story so far, it is of the clash between the northern and southern parts (and ideologies) of England during the Industrial Revolution, about mid-19th century. Some research tells me the novel was published in 1855. The protagonist, a young woman named Margaret Hale, gets uprooted from her comfortable southern estate by her unconventional clergyman father, to the cold, unfriendly, industrial town of Milton in the north (cotton mills). So many great themes to consider here, the contrast not only of north and south, but also privilege and poverty, master and union, education and ignorance. Should the livelihood of the many take precedence over a starving family? Do employers have a moral obligation to comment on how their poor workers spend what little money they have?
I just spent my entire evening watching it, and was astounded. It’s impossible not to compare it to the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice; there are some obvious parallels – the painful miscues, the secret glances, the overbearing female dragon, the brooding gentleman. The scenery differs greatly, however, and I credit the BBC for transporting me to such a vivid place – those mills could have come directly out of a Jacob Riis photograph. I also feel that it is much darker, without the playful and frivolous society in Pride and Prejudice. Hardship, class struggle and hunger feature prominently and aren’t there to support the love story, though it is equally poignant.
Some things I feel compelled to comment upon:
In Pride and Prejudice, the story (and film) is from Elizabeth’s point of view, so Mr. Darcy’s actions are not justified until Elizabeth finds out for herself. In North and South, we get an omni shot of everything, the camera jumping around all points of view. So when Margaret berates Mr. Thornton for being a heartless, insensitive mill owner you just want to cringe (I did!).
This may be Gaskell or BBC or both, but all the characters were extremely efficient. Not a single wasted actor, each one with significance and a role to play.
And of course… Richard Armitage as Mr. Thornton was a standout. He really was. I am really drawn to people who have the spirit and ambition to triumph over difficult times, and let’s face it – your sister nearly marrying a gambling fop is not the same as your father committing suicide and needing to raise your entire family out of utter destitution. John Thornton has an intensity about him that surpasses even Darcy, somehow, as much as I admire him. Thornton is like Darcy in that he is so controlled, so taciturn and so dignified, that when you see in him in more tender moments it’s especially touching – but he still has a better proposal scene than Darcy (and this is saying a lot!).
It also helps that Richard Armitage is so spectacularly good-looking.
I do have one major question though, and that is: why have we no reaction (riots, comments at all) from the workers when Marlborough Mills is closing down? They were frightened enough at the prospect of losing their jobs when the went on strike, but we later see the building empty.
I must find the novel and read it.