Harry Potter!, or, another post with adaptation spoilers

On Saturday, several of us went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. (By "several," I mean that we took up more than an entire row in the movie theater.) It was great to see people, and the movie was fun too. It was a little bit frenetic, but I think that's just because they were trying to fit in so much plot in so (relatively) little movie time. For once, I don't think I missed many of the plot omissions, although I sort of wish we could have seen more interactions among Harry, Ron and Hermione (Ron flipped out, but everything was resolved kind of quickly). Also, I was bugged by the image of Sirius in the embers; wasn't he supposed to be in the flames above them? Most annoying was Dumbledore--why was he so visibly upset so early in the movie? Harry's return with Cedric's body seemed to affect him less than Harry's name being pulled out of the goblet of fire.

I did really like several things about the movie, though, including the way they handled Harry as a triwizard competitor. The scene where he sat quietly while the other competitors fought their dragons was really poignant. I also thought the dance scenes were hilarious, if overly pink, and that Ralph Fiennes was a very creepy Voldemort. (I just wish the priori incantatem scene wasn't over so quickly; I missed the novel's pace there.)

And now...for the obligatory geek photos: (I mean this with love!)


















P.S. Yes, we all posed in the movie theater hallway. This is because we are awesome.

this is just to say...

Happy Thanksgiving!

so true (and only slightly edited)

Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about [graduate school]. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.

Fennyman: So what do we do?

Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.

Fennyman: How?

Henslowe: I don't know. It's a mystery.

I'd rather play hurk than go to work

The end of the quarter crunch time has definitely arrived. I'm currently juggling writing a final paper in a field I'm less familiar with (it's a feminist theory class, not an English literature one), reading Clarissa (only 600 [!!] pages left), keeping up with my teaching (including extra student conferences), collecting reading for my final project on Clarissa (which I will probably be asking an extension for), sketching a syllabus for my class next quarter (due to my course advisor in two weeks), writing a final exam for my class, and considering the prospect that on Wednesday my class will be handing me 120 pages worth of drafts to read. Bleh.

Other than that, things have been going well (and I don't mean that to have the sarcastic tone it seems likely to have). I've got to do a lot of fun things this past week (which might, I admit, have something to do with how far behind I am...). Two of my friends and I had lunch at a vegetarian cafe by the beach that I had never known existed before (the cafe, not the beach), Justin let me get out some of my stress Saturday by battling miniature ninjas in the wacky new eye-toy game he bought (it was really, really fun), and I've been sneaking in Gilmore Girls breaks via the season three DVD's I borrowed from a friend a while back. I'm also really looking forward to seeing a lot of family and friends this weekend, some of whom I haven't seen in a long while. It's just that knowing I want to spend significant time with them makes me feel a bit more panicky about the work I still have to do.

Oh, and finally...here are the promised, belated Pride and Prejudice thoughts, complete with spoilers:

* I went to the film thinking from the previews that it was going to be highly romanticized, but that most of that romanticization would focus on Elizabeth (walking in the rain, speaking passionately, etc.). However, while Elizabeth did walk in the rain more than seems healthy, the majority of the romanticization was definitely used to make Mr. Darcy seem more mysterious. He was frequently surrounded by mists, or enveloped in a coat that resembled a Bat Cape. He also, occasionally, seemed to be eight feet tall. I don't know what to make of this; isn't visiting Pemberley impressive enough?

* The decision to place the farm right next to the Bennets' house was an interesting one. I think the director said he intended to highlight the class difference between the Bennets and the Darcys this way, but I think the effect for me was more of a reality check - they weren't merely living off of words, which Austen sometimes makes it seem like. Similarly, I liked the fact that you could hear everyone stomp their feet in the country dance, and could see dirt and dust kicked up in the street when the militia paraded into town. These details seem right for a movie about a woman who's not afraid to get her dress muddy.

* Bingley made me laugh in every scene, partially because he was funny, and partially because he seemed like a grown-up Ron Weasley.

* Some characters seemed more sympathetic in this version than in the BBC one (Mary, Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins) while others seemed less sympathetic (namely, Miss Bingley). I think the first three seem more sympathetic because this adaptation chose to tone down the satirical elements that the BBC did so well. It's interesting to me how just by making a voice less screechy or softer (as they did with Mary and Mrs. Bennet) the person immediately seems more human and less like a caricature. On the other hand, Miss Bingley suffered from the more serious tone of this movie - if she's not ridiculous, then she's reduced to being simply and entirely unlikable. She becomes a villain rather than a fool.

I'd have to see it again before I could say much more. I would highly recommend it as an entertaining movie, and would love to hear from anyone else who's seen it.

in other news, I'm tired

I'm exhausted; this week managed to really tire me out. (It also might be the cumulative effect of 8 weeks of non-stop academic fun.) I think I will sleep very well tonight!

Pride and Prejudice was really amusing, and I promise to post a spoiler-ridden post about it when I am more alert.

some things I like, part 3

all things Jane Austen (here is a partial list):

The Republic of Pemberley - I don't think you know literary nerdiness until you've spent a few minutes reading their "Lady Catherine & Co." board. They also have message boards for all of the novels, tons of biographical and period info., and, err, interesting fan fiction.

the Jane Austen font

Becoming Jane (Who was in charge of casting this?!)

those crazy JASNA people

Oh, and I get to see Pride and Prejudice tomorrow! Hooray.

getting right to it

I want a kitty. That is all.

a good day, or, why I love Charlotte Bronte

Last night and today were wonderful, despite the pile of papers I had to grade. I spent two hours yesterday evening losing myself in Jane Eyre; it reminded me just how engrossing novels can be. Then this afternoon I had several terrific exchanges with students. The older student in my class said that, despite his earlier reservations that Jane Eyre was a "girly book," he finished the whole thing this weekend (instead of the first nine chapters I had assigned). He claimed he simply couldn't put it down. Later, another student and I spent twenty minutes of my office hours developing elaborate conspiracy theories about who killed Judge Pyncheon in The House of the Seven Gables. (She thinks it was Phoebe -- mesmerized -- in the parlor.) Class was great, too; the students had a number of really intriguing ideas about the first six chapters, and I barely had to say anything to keep the responses bouncing around the room.

The combination of an escapist evening with Jane Eyre and an enthusiastic and productive classroom response to it was like something out of my daydreams about teaching. I think this may be why I wanted to teach literature in the first place.

pass the kleenex, please

I remember reading a meme a while back that asked people to confess which books make them cry. I'm teaching two of mine this quarter: The Bluest Eye and Jane Eyre. In fact, I just reread for class tomorrow the scene where Helen Burns dies and, even though it's ridiculously sentimental, it made we weepy (as usual). Others that always make me tear up include Where the Red Fern Grows, The Little Prince, Little Women, Cold Mountain, A Prayer for Owen Meany, and Bel Canto. I'm sure there are others as well that I'm just forgetting.

Novels like these remind me of music; they always take me aback with their power to move me.

Anyone else care to share books that can make you cry?

milk tea

On my friends' message board, we have been discussing just how good lavendar milk tea is. From what I can tell from an Internet search, it's made from tea brewed with lavendar and then mixed well with milk and sugar. It seems similar in ways to the recipes for chai posted here. (There's even a recipe for "Romantic Chai". . . mmm.)

The problem is that all of these recipes seem too complicated. I make tea a lot, but I rarely brew any without tea bags. I don't even have the kind of mortar and pestle necessary to crush a lot of these spices. Luckily, both are readily available in powder or concentrate forms. Convenience wins!

space mountain simulation

If you ever find yourself missing Disneyland, skip the $50 bucks and try this simulation instead. It's creepy how much time this must have taken, but it's pretty awesome.

deconstruction blues

For the response I have to write this week for my class on women and citizenship, I have been thinking a lot about the difference between what kind of work we do in the classroom (and by "we" here I mean the generally liberal graduate students working toward an emphasis in feminist theory) and what kind of change we wish to effect in the world. We spend pretty much all of our time in class dismantling various kinds of idealism: we discuss how achieving a sense of belonging relies on practices of exclusion, how ideas of a better future are almost always contingent on imagining the past as either very good or very bad (rather than somewhere in the middle), etc. At the same time, most of us -- I think -- make sure to vote, to recycle, to include women's voices (in the form of texts or student discussion) in our classroom, and to do all sorts of "little" things that we believe will help our own kinds of idealism come alive. We simultaneously believe in the possibilities of achieving equality, peace and environmental sustainability and see the many problems and paradoxes in the way people (including ourselves) think about them.

My program is a kind of home base for deconstructionist theorists (Derrida taught here, after all), so I feel like I can't really get away from it in my own reading and writing. But, as I've told Justin several times, I don't see how people whose lives center around deconstructionist theory ever do anything. There is some value in dismantling arguments, but then how do you ever work toward some sort of solution?

I apologize if this post is confusing; it confuses me too.

a snail's pace

A very early or very late spring cleaning impulse, or some sort of nesting instinct, has taken hold of me. I've decided that my living space is driving me crazy -- I have too many stacks of papers lying around (some of which need to be filed away, but some of which are probably important, like my student loan deferment application in there somewhere), my kitchen is scarily understocked (which is less my fault really than the fault of the first T.A. paycheck that didn't arrive until last week), I need to vacuum, etc. I decided since I have a longish weekend to take care of some of those things before I started working on my academic projects. I've been working all afternoon and evening, but all I've managed to do is clean out my refrigerator, make a major grocery shopping trip, wash a bunch of dishes, and cook some food. I haven't even touched the stuff in my bedroom that needs help. Sigh.

Having four days off in a row seems great, but I have a lot to do (besides cleaning/filing/stocking up). I have to do a lot of reading, grading and researching, and should probably be writing as well. I know it'll get done, but I wish I could move faster.

one red paperclip

This is the kind of optimism we all need, friends.

Do you think I could start with, say, a bachelor's degree, and trade it for tenure? Just askin'.

in which I congratulate myself for pressing a button

Today I went to my feminist theory seminar and discussed how activities like voting tend to be understood metaphorically as a consumer choice between different "goods." We talked also about some of the limitations of voting as a way of challenging or improving the government.

Then I went and voted!

I don't know if anyone out of state heard anything about the propositions being backed by our governator, but some were pretty awful. My teaching assistant union was especially active in fighting Prop. 75, which would have really restricted the ability of unions to spend money to protest, say, cuts in education or healthcare. Speaking of which, Prop. 76 was going to allow the governor to override the legislature and cut spending for education whenever he deemed it necessary. Fortunately, both seem to have failed at this point (knocking on my desk).

I have heard that they are expecting more Californians to vote absentee this election than at polling sites. While I understand the convenience of this (I had a 25-minute wait today to vote), I think a lot of the experience is lost by voting at home. There is something very satisfying about casting a ballot, even if it is an electronic ballot like we have in Orange County. I don't even mind waiting in line; it's exciting to see a large turnout.

What I especially like about voting at the polls, however, is seeing parents vote and then give their kids the "I voted" stickers. As a kid myself, I remember finding the combination of the top-secret voting booth and the free sticker giveaway intriguing. I really couldn't wait to be 18 and go inside the booth (what could be in there? more free stickers?). It's probably silly and obvious, but there's something about visiting the polls that does more to educate someone about the importance of voting than filling out forms at home ever could.

Edit: The L.A. Times' top headline this morning is "No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No." That's excellent.

Jane vs. Jayne: The Showdown

The contenders: Jane Austen, novelist, and Jayne Cobb, mercenary

Both have cunning hats:


































Both have inspired action figures:








































Clearly, it comes down to a battle of wits:

Jane: Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. . . . A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.

Jayne: If wishes were horses, we'd all be eatin' steak.

Advantage: Jane.

Are you sure these theorists were English majors?

I have three articles to present tomorrow in my feminist citizenship class, and my careful reading of these (I admit I usually skim) has made me, occasionally, want to tear out my hair. Here are some representative sentences:

"She contends that the Foucault's genealogical mapping of the convergence of relations of power theorises the motion and space of such articulations, but does not fully address the temporal nature of such manoeuvres." (Have you read the Foucault?)

"Following Butler, the constitution of the consumer-citizen can be formulated as the convergence of the non-thematisable space between the self and the not-self." (Gotcha.)

"The analysis of governmentalisation highlights the significance of neo-liberalism as not just simply a withdrawal of the state from the supposedly 'free market,' but rather as an actually more invasive instrumentalisation and meta-control of social life." (I believe you mean meta-controllisation.)

This one, fortunately, is just fun:

"What isn't clear is whether citizenship would mean much to a posthumanist cyborg."

belated Halloween post

I didn't encounter too many trick-or-treaters at my apartment complex last weekend, but I did get sent a few e-mails with photos of my cousins in costume.

Are you ready for this amount of cuteness?

Hugh Jackman: animagus?

yet another reality check

An older student in my class (he's about my parents' age) just stopped by my office hours and told me that he might not be in class on Friday because he needs to take his wife to surgery. He stopped by not to ask me questions, but to drop off his paper early so he wouldn't get penalized for it being late.

My own response was completely inadequate. I said something about his thoughtfulness in turning in the paper early, and he responded something to the effect of okay, have a nice day.

There are many, many days when the idea of taking a paper on Moll Flanders seriously seems like a big joke.

subversive women dramas

I've been narrowing down the texts I will be teaching in an introduction to drama course next quarter. The course has to cover comedy and tragedy as well as a wide historical breadth, and must center around a theme (mine is "subversive women"). Here is my tentative list:

Medea (Euripides) or The Oresteia (Aeschylus)
Lysistrata (Aristophanes)
The Taming of the Shrew (Shakespeare)
She Stoops to Conquer (Goldsmith)
Hedda Gabler (Ibsen)
Top Girls (Churchill)

I am actually pretty excited about this, which is surprising since last week I had no idea what to teach and was dreading thinking about it. Now I can picture how the theme will really help us connect the texts together and explore the differences between comedy and tragedy in productive ways (unlike my current novel course theme, "narrating crime," which doesn't seem to be working as well).

Woohoo! Now if only I could export this enthusiasm to the Clarissa reading I'm supposed to be doing.

Edit: I forgot that I'm not allowed to have more than one text in translation. Shoot. New speculative list:

The Taming of the Shrew
Macbeth
She Stoops to Conquer
Hedda Gabler
Top Girls