It made me laugh, it made me cry...
Jan. 16th, 2017 04:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alobearIt's been a varied couple of weeks for entertainment, but largely excellent.
My two-month run of really great books is continuing, with two more reccommended by my bibliotherapist.
Dear Committee Members by Julie Schumacher is a series of letters written by a creative writing professor in a fictional American university. Most of them are letters of recommendation for his students, who are applying for various jobs, but others are to other staff at the university, or to old colleagues and friends who have moved on to other positions. As is often the case with comic novels, I didn't find the book as uproariously hilarious as the cover quotes suggested I would, but it was consistently entertaining, and generally pretty funny. Working at a university myself, I completely related to the bureaucracy and difficulties faced by the protagonist. And being a writer myself, I also connected with his struggles with his own writing, and that of his students. I think the book would generally have wide appeal, as a lot of the humour is universal, but I would particularly recommend it to anyone who has ever worked in academia, or in an administrative role in an educational institution. The ending was quite unexpected, but worked really well as a counterpoint to all the absurdity that preceded it.
I then moved on to a collection of short stories - Suddenly, A Knock At The Door - by Etgar Keret, an Israeli writer I had never come across before. This was a glorious reading experience - many, many mostly very short stories that I absolutely loved. Some were hilarious, some were tragic, some were unsettling, some were surreal, and some were all of these together. A lot of them were quite inconclusive, and most were quite odd in varying ways. The ones I liked best had a real punch to the ending, which gave the rest of the story an impactful and emotional resonance. One of my favourites was about a talking goldfish, and another was a desperately sad tale of someone contemplating the possibilities of infinite parallel universes. They're exactly the sort of stories I often try to write myself, whether successfully or not, so it was wonderful to discover such a rich collection of work to enjoy and aspire to. I will definitely be looking up more of his books.
As a complete contrast, this morning I finished listening to the latest Reacher book, Night School, by Lee Child. It was a slight departure from the norm, because it was set in 1997, back when Reacher was still in the army. It featured my favourite of the recurring secondary characters in the series - Sergeant Neagley - and had all the hallmarks of a classic Reacher adventure, with the added intrigue of the limitations imposed on him by being in a chain of command. One thing I particularly noticed, more so than in other books, was the repetition. Often there will be certain phrases or whole paragraphs that are highlighted and referred back to later on in the narrative, but there seemed to be more of these than usual, and they seemed to be repeated more often. It was a little distracting, but not enough to spoil my enjoyment of an otherwise highly entertaining story.
On the more dramatic front, I went to the ballet on Friday night, to see Matthew Bourne's version of The Red Shoes. I wasn't familiar with the story going in, and I have to admit, I didn't find it as easy to follow as his other ballets that I've seen. From an experiential point of view, the front row of the upper circle continued to be a successful seating choice (significantly cheaper than the main circle, but with almost as good a view), and I was rather amused by the man seated three down from me. As is usual in theatres, the ledge of the balcony rail had periodic stickers stating that drinks should not be placed there - and this man used one as a coaster for his drink throughout the performance. His cup was so carefully positioned, it's not as if he could claim he hadn't seen it...
Anyway, back to the ballet. This was my seventh Matthew Bourne ballet, and I went in with high expectations, even though I haven't absolutely loved all of them. The first few scenes weren't that engaging, and the intricacies of the plot escaped me, but it very much picked up shortly before the interval. The entirety of the ballet within the ballet was utterly magical, and just as powerful and inventive as I've come to expect from Bourne. It told a simple, yet effective story of desperation and control, and the ghost dance in particular was fantastic.
I was a little uncertain about the presentation of the protagonist, as she seemed only to be defined in terms of her relationship to the various men in the story. After reading the plot of the film on the train ride home, I got the impression it was supposed to be about the conflict between career and love, but I didn't get that from the ballet, as the woman's choice seemed to be between the two men themselves, rather than the dancing opportunities they presented.
I wasn't keen on the ending, either, as it didn't feel as if there had been enough emotional build up to give it much impact. It was also very abrupt, and the significance of the train station was lost on me. The dancer seemed to be fleeing madness rather than chasing after her lover, so it didn't really work for me as a conclusion to the tale that had been laid out up to that point. However, parts of the show were very funny, and there was some wonderful staging in the middle sections, so I enjoyed it overall.
Then, on Saturday, I went to see La La Land at the cinema. This turned out to be quite different to what I was expecting. First of all, I had thought it was set in the 1940s, but it was actually present day, which surprised me and took me a while to get used to. The musical numbers were great - particularly the first one between Mia and Sebastian on the clifftop - but there were fewer of them than I was expecting, and some of the sections in between dragged a little. So, it wasn't as unabashedly and joyfully entertaining as I had hoped and been led to believe. However, the second half went in an interesting direction and started to ask difficult questions about whether creative people can follow and achieve their dreams, whilst also having a successful relationship with each other. The ending very much subverted my expectations, and I was especially impressed by the opportunity the characters had to reflect on their choices and decide whether or not they were happy with them. That aspect was very well done indeed, and was very thought-provoking. So, I got a very different experience than I thought I would, but one with much more depth and contemplation.
So, a whole range of emotions, reactions and experiences to start off the year - long may it continue!
My two-month run of really great books is continuing, with two more reccommended by my bibliotherapist.
Dear Committee Members by Julie Schumacher is a series of letters written by a creative writing professor in a fictional American university. Most of them are letters of recommendation for his students, who are applying for various jobs, but others are to other staff at the university, or to old colleagues and friends who have moved on to other positions. As is often the case with comic novels, I didn't find the book as uproariously hilarious as the cover quotes suggested I would, but it was consistently entertaining, and generally pretty funny. Working at a university myself, I completely related to the bureaucracy and difficulties faced by the protagonist. And being a writer myself, I also connected with his struggles with his own writing, and that of his students. I think the book would generally have wide appeal, as a lot of the humour is universal, but I would particularly recommend it to anyone who has ever worked in academia, or in an administrative role in an educational institution. The ending was quite unexpected, but worked really well as a counterpoint to all the absurdity that preceded it.
I then moved on to a collection of short stories - Suddenly, A Knock At The Door - by Etgar Keret, an Israeli writer I had never come across before. This was a glorious reading experience - many, many mostly very short stories that I absolutely loved. Some were hilarious, some were tragic, some were unsettling, some were surreal, and some were all of these together. A lot of them were quite inconclusive, and most were quite odd in varying ways. The ones I liked best had a real punch to the ending, which gave the rest of the story an impactful and emotional resonance. One of my favourites was about a talking goldfish, and another was a desperately sad tale of someone contemplating the possibilities of infinite parallel universes. They're exactly the sort of stories I often try to write myself, whether successfully or not, so it was wonderful to discover such a rich collection of work to enjoy and aspire to. I will definitely be looking up more of his books.
As a complete contrast, this morning I finished listening to the latest Reacher book, Night School, by Lee Child. It was a slight departure from the norm, because it was set in 1997, back when Reacher was still in the army. It featured my favourite of the recurring secondary characters in the series - Sergeant Neagley - and had all the hallmarks of a classic Reacher adventure, with the added intrigue of the limitations imposed on him by being in a chain of command. One thing I particularly noticed, more so than in other books, was the repetition. Often there will be certain phrases or whole paragraphs that are highlighted and referred back to later on in the narrative, but there seemed to be more of these than usual, and they seemed to be repeated more often. It was a little distracting, but not enough to spoil my enjoyment of an otherwise highly entertaining story.
On the more dramatic front, I went to the ballet on Friday night, to see Matthew Bourne's version of The Red Shoes. I wasn't familiar with the story going in, and I have to admit, I didn't find it as easy to follow as his other ballets that I've seen. From an experiential point of view, the front row of the upper circle continued to be a successful seating choice (significantly cheaper than the main circle, but with almost as good a view), and I was rather amused by the man seated three down from me. As is usual in theatres, the ledge of the balcony rail had periodic stickers stating that drinks should not be placed there - and this man used one as a coaster for his drink throughout the performance. His cup was so carefully positioned, it's not as if he could claim he hadn't seen it...
Anyway, back to the ballet. This was my seventh Matthew Bourne ballet, and I went in with high expectations, even though I haven't absolutely loved all of them. The first few scenes weren't that engaging, and the intricacies of the plot escaped me, but it very much picked up shortly before the interval. The entirety of the ballet within the ballet was utterly magical, and just as powerful and inventive as I've come to expect from Bourne. It told a simple, yet effective story of desperation and control, and the ghost dance in particular was fantastic.
I was a little uncertain about the presentation of the protagonist, as she seemed only to be defined in terms of her relationship to the various men in the story. After reading the plot of the film on the train ride home, I got the impression it was supposed to be about the conflict between career and love, but I didn't get that from the ballet, as the woman's choice seemed to be between the two men themselves, rather than the dancing opportunities they presented.
I wasn't keen on the ending, either, as it didn't feel as if there had been enough emotional build up to give it much impact. It was also very abrupt, and the significance of the train station was lost on me. The dancer seemed to be fleeing madness rather than chasing after her lover, so it didn't really work for me as a conclusion to the tale that had been laid out up to that point. However, parts of the show were very funny, and there was some wonderful staging in the middle sections, so I enjoyed it overall.
Then, on Saturday, I went to see La La Land at the cinema. This turned out to be quite different to what I was expecting. First of all, I had thought it was set in the 1940s, but it was actually present day, which surprised me and took me a while to get used to. The musical numbers were great - particularly the first one between Mia and Sebastian on the clifftop - but there were fewer of them than I was expecting, and some of the sections in between dragged a little. So, it wasn't as unabashedly and joyfully entertaining as I had hoped and been led to believe. However, the second half went in an interesting direction and started to ask difficult questions about whether creative people can follow and achieve their dreams, whilst also having a successful relationship with each other. The ending very much subverted my expectations, and I was especially impressed by the opportunity the characters had to reflect on their choices and decide whether or not they were happy with them. That aspect was very well done indeed, and was very thought-provoking. So, I got a very different experience than I thought I would, but one with much more depth and contemplation.
So, a whole range of emotions, reactions and experiences to start off the year - long may it continue!
