The Fountainhead, rereading it again years later. I don't get Dominique. I mean, I understand what she's trying to do, but I guess I just have difficulty accepting that she'd rather be like herself than Roark. He just does his work and keeps working. She does nothing, but then again, she's bored. I get it: she's pissed off. She wants forever, while he only wants a moment, then another, then another, then another.
This is a response to "Rent," MoMA (the Museum of Modern Art), "Jane Eyre" (the musical), "Copenhagen" (the play), Amber, New York, Aaron, Adriane, Leslie, "Waltzing the Cat," the people on the subway, "A Mathematician's Apology," "Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals," the ladies in the airport, "The Magic of Recluse," rain, and Central Park. People are reasons, including myself. I do stuff for myself because I love myself. I do other and the same stuff because I love other people. People seem, for the most part, happy, so this is a good world, but Mark didn't find a simple answer. He stood alone from the group when they sang in line, but he'd humor them for humor. He wouldn't hurt them. I have an idea for a book. It starts, "In books, movies, and such, people are always wondering how they got into situations. I wonder why I never did." Is this a common problem? Is it just chance that some of us don't have "then one thing led to another?" Does my face just not match what I feel? Maybe I'm just a coward, but I know how to survive and little else. I would have turned to the lady next to me on the subway, and asked her if she was happy (I really wanted to know), but I knew that I would be upset if someone spoke to me without the proper protocol. I shun the conventions and hide behind them. Am I so hypocritical? I'm not so much afraid as terrified, so ignore it, please, and keep talking. I'll get used to whatever (the silly thing) is bothering me and be alright, probably better for it. Oh, and drugs are a bad idea (they wished me to never have to deal with the addiction, those ladies), despite all claims at 'Carpe diem,' so leave them alone. There is a better way, one that causes less pain later. Other people help keep hope alive and multiply happiness. "I think it's fun that you think it's fun, so, even if I don't like it, I'll still be having fun, so try your latest hobby on me." Spider webs.
.....I saw Center Stage today. I knew I would see it eventually. There was a lot of good and truth in there, but the focus was on the wrong character for the story line. She was supposed to triumph by choosing herself over a stereotype, but she had no discernible self, she was the stereotype, or the closest anyone could come. Yet, the 'maybe this isn't the right place for you' struck a cord. Ya' know, I went to Ballet Camp with Katie, and, because I didn't study strict Gacetti and still have never taken a level test, my teacher of the time (LA-ura) put me in B with Katie. It was strange to me, using the head and not knowing the names of arm positions. Susan, you left me unprepared and I was kindly demoted to A. She, too, was behind in technique, and no amount of hard work can learn it all in a few days. Trust me, I TRIED. The pointe shoes, the stress, class (though my teachers have greater pearls to offer), and the other dancers were all real. It was only Judy (the main {lack of} character) and a bit of the performance that was clearly fake. That last part of the last dance was disappointing. Much as I hate to bring it to this, it is the only characterization she has (other than group sessions). She's chipmunky, cheap, and overly naively stupid. She never thinks, not once. So, the main character sucks, but it has a killer set, dude.
.....Gladiator. It didn't suck me in. All the time, I was aware that I was watching a movie that was carefully crafted art. It was good to have seen, but exhausting to try to hang on to the window sill of a truck on the go. I wasn't inside. I will remember it and make references to it for a long time because I was lulled into paying attention. It could have been great, but the idea seemed to be that this man's story is worth being told because he was normal, not because he was great. And yes, the character of Maximus was a great man. The one watching him wasn't great, though, so we only saw what our story-teller saw of Maximus's greatness. There was more there and no need to contrive.
....."Saving Private Ryan" left me comforted. Jeff is normal. I am not alone. Other people are as sickened, disgusted, revulsed, and confused as I am. Other people hurt just as much. It's not sad. It is sick, but the medicine is working. We are getting better. The worst is over. Never, never again. I am not alone.
......Llyod Alexander writes great books, but, with a few exceptions, is to ..un-natural.. for comfort. He seems to be putting a ton of thought into each idea, which would be great if fiction books were like school essays, but, as is, the intensity can get to me. Another thing that bugs me is the characters' speech. Sometimes they don't sound like themselves. Taran, in particular, occasionally sounds like he's reading a script and he doesn't agree with what he is saying. 'Course, that could have something to do with his BIG streak of melodrama. Hum-dee-dum. The only books of A.L.'s that I've read that seem straight from the heart are his Vesper Holly ones. They aren't obviously teaching anything and so A.L. goes from moralist to storyteller. I enjoy reading those books more. They're lighter. Nobody blurts out what they've learned without even being asked. The characters also leave something to be desired. Taran may be the character I like best, but then again, I don't really hold him in that high of esteem to declare him my favorite character. The same kind of goes for Eilonwy. They're acquaintances of mine, but not friends.
.....The thing I like best about Patricia C. Wrede's books is that they are always light and easy to digest. They do raise issues and go quite deep and dark, but they don't force self-adaption. The moral isn't shouted out, if be there a single moral. Satisfying. Enjoyable. Matter of fact, with the exception of The Magician's Ward, I have not finished any of her books without a huge silly grin on my face and an ecstatically happy feeling, like after spending time with my friends. The characters are all different, but all human. They are people I like knowing. They are my friends. That's probably why I feel like I've been hanging out with them when I have been. The problem with T.M.W. might have been that I had expectations for it, whereas, with the other book, I expected nothing. The fact that I so like Marilyn the Magician (even if I can't spell his name) led me to expect the sequel to be even better. It wasn't. It was rushed and forced. I was disappointed. Although P.C.W.'s books are not perfect (that run on sentence in The Raven Ring particularly annoys me), they always bring that smile. That's why I might have a tendency to babble on about them. (grin) By the by, I re-read T.M.W. again, with an more open mind and enjoyed it immensely.
.....The Lord of the Flies. The thing is, I won't believe it, but I can't help seeing it. Corruption. Terror. Panic and Madness. I've felt them. I've seen them. I just can't believe that they could leap to such levels unseen. They weren't unseen. They aren't unseen. People fight them every day. People lose every day. People win every day. They awaken to find themselves fighting again. The battle without an enemy. Fighting themselves, hiding themselves, giving in to themselves, denying themselves. There is the capacity for good and evil in everything and when people stop caring, when we give up our strength of will, we can and will be corrupted. Will we really? Ought we be frightened of this? After all, what is physical survival if you lose your soul along the way? Can you lose it? I..Doubt..It. Opps, it looks like I worked The Picture of Dorian Gray in there. Sooorry. Well, not really. All books are connected, after all.
.....The Fountainhead This isn't going to be an easy review because I read the book last week and my impressions aren't too fresh. I'd really rather just wait until I read Atlas Shrugged in a few days and write an author review rather than a book one. I will say that the self over others debate is very interesting and does go against all I've ever been taught, but not all that I've ever thought. I rather think both extremes are just that, extremes. We need people and we also need to be independent. At least, we need memories of other life. We don't need physical people, else all those people who end up stranded on desert islands could never survive. Do we need people or are they a luxury? I rather think, alone, on a dead planet, with total and complete brain scrubbing amnesia, a person would die, not from hunger or thirst, but from loneliness. To not conceive of another... Living for the sake of living is a terrific idea, though. After all, what else is there to live for that you can't lose? Live for love, others, defiance, if you wish, but be sure and live to live. What else is there but life? Even death is but the absence of life. Sheesh. This is getting a bit philosophical. I think I call it quits. 'Til next response.
.....Ah,The Picture of Dorian Gray. Well, what can I say? Plenty, but what do I want to say? A bit of a romantic, I fancy. Really loved to shock people. Really, really loved to shock people and to manipulate their emotions and minds. Oscar Wilde was very good at what he did. His descriptions and dialog are brilliant and smooth, but also in character. His ideas are developed, but not obviously pressed. He wanted justice very badly, but believed the world to be an unjust place. He distrusted goodness, but cherished it. The Happy Prince is a beautiful story that could make you cry, in rage and sadness against the injustice of the world. The beautiful statue that could not be happy while others suffered that he could help. Was he a fool? He did not live for their approval or even for them, but he gave them everything he had, besides his "life" and paid that for his deeds. And as for the "obvious underlying currents," I simply did not see it. That is that.
.....I really love the power and fullness of LeAnn Rimes's voice, but I don't like her style or sound. It bugs me when people hold back so that their voice is higher or more controlled, or whatever. I like it full-blast. You can always turn down the radio. LeAnn Rimes gives me the feeling that she's pouring her soul out of her mouth and doing the best that she is capable of. She sounds confident. She knows she can sing, so she does and that's that. Beginning of story.
.....With Whitney Huston and Celine Dion, I love the power of their voices and the sound of them, but I dislike their style in most songs. As a matter of fact, I own Celine Dion's Falling into you, but I only listen to the first two songs. I tried to listen to the rest, but they are just too irritating, dull, and sissy. In some of them, she sounds so shallow and ditzy that I want to smack her. I love the first two songs, by the way. That's why I bought the CD. I really, really don't like warbling and artist added "noises." They're singing for the sake of it (in my world, which is where you are) and not to preform. Catering to the audience is not allowed.
.....On to a lighter note, let's review The Backstreet Boys. Yeah, yeah, yakkity-shmackity. I like their music for dancing to: 1. because their voices don't bug my ears. 2. The beat is so obvious that even the tank-top girls sometimes get it. 3. It's up-beat, active, and fun. Like the Beach Boys, who have a lot of the same responses, their music is also wonderful to sing along to. My voice happens to blend in pretty well with alot of middle voices. And so, while I watch Amber shake her head in despair, I'll bid you a fond a-choo. Good Night.
And now for a movie. Let's try "Meet Joe Black." I found it uproariously funny. It would be even better with a little editing of some truly unnecessary scenes. The crash was very, very good. The excuse was very good, but the crash was definitely the highlight. Our family broke out laughing at both parts, but most people just acted stunned and one screamed. For the most part, it was greatly enjoyable.
MOTL (More on this later)