London so far (April 25-April 29)

The trip so far has been rather eventful. I'm taking it easy today to catch up on notes and photos, and this blog. Better now than trying to remember it all when I get back home.

Wed., Apriil 25: Arrive, get to lodgings in West Hampstead, get basics estabished, meet Nicole to see Becoming Jane, have a pint. Go home exhausted. My quick movie review here.

Thurs., April 26: Still jetlagged, decide to have a "light" day at the Victoria and Albert museum. See their standing architecture gallery, a small exhibition on James "Athenian" Stuart (a minor 18th century architect), and the miniatures gallery. Then decide to stay for lunch and see the Surreal Things exhibit, which is interesting, though its film component is disappointing because it fails to provide context and there is no designated space to sit and watch the clips–they're just projected over the "Surrealism and the Body" room.
Decide I can live without seeing the V&A's Kylie Minogue exhibit. Am proved correct.

Fri., April 27: No more jetlag. Head to Osterley Park,

where I find out I'm not allowed to photograph the interior. I buy the illustrated guide to deal with the disappointment. Osterley has amazingly preserved 18th century interiors, including original carpets and furniture. The attention to detail is overwhelming, as is the thought that the mouldings and friezes on the walls were all done by hand. More Osterley photos (exteriors only, dammit) here.

Friday night I head out with Nicole and calamity befalls me. Well, not really. I must admit that I was rather calm about the theft, for two reasons: 1. I hadn't lost my most important possessions (camera, passport, cash, laptop) and 2. I'd already drank two pints of beer, making me pretty sedate.

Sat., April 28: Hogarth Exhibition at the Tate Britain. I had been looking forward to this comprehensive exhibit of a major 18th century artist (painter, engraver) since I booked my trip back in January. The original plan was to go with Nicole, which is why I waited until the second-last day to head down, but Nicole couldn't make it so I went by myself.

The gallery was packed with people trying to get into the exhibit, but with a Tate Membership card, I got to walk right in (and for free!). Seeing pictoral series of The Harlot's Progress, The Rake's Progress, and Marriage à la Mode was a treat. The paintings are a lot bigger than any reproductions in anthologies, meaning I could make out more detail. It was also useful to see the two painted series (Rake and Marriage) in colour. The exhibit also featured works by Hogarth's contemporaries, including two of Joseph Highmore's Scenes from Pamela paintings, a fact which I think only Karine will appreciate.

Sun., April 29: Syon Park with Nicole. Again, no interior photos allowed and again, I bought the illustrated guide. Stunning interiors, particularly the rooms designed by 18th century architect Robert Adam.


What is there to say about an architect and designer who thinks through every detail of a room, including the furniture, carpetting and ceiling? One of the best details was a hidden door at one end of the Long Gallery, which led outside. Spines of books were actually put on the door to make it blend it with the bookshelf around it. I feel bad for the books, but marvel at the ingenuity. More photos of Syon's grounds here.

After Syon, Nicole and I took the Tube into town and had a late lunch at Hyde Park (yes, my life is good). It was a beautiful day in London and hundreds of people were hanging out, reading, rollerblading, biking. After lunch (and caffeine) we braved Oxford Street, the shopping district, to find me a replacement bag at Primark.

The store (think H&M in trendiness and price range), which had been open only about two weeks, was madness. It took us five minutes to find the bag and at least 15 to line up and pay for it. The trouble was worth it, because the bag cost only £2.50, which was about all I was willing to pay for a replacement. It's made of cloth and quite spacious, as the umbrella indicates.

Today, I am tired. Organizing stuff for later this week, including making appointments to visit museum collections. Don't want to wear myself out, though, since I still have over two weeks left. If you have read this far, good for you. Thanks.

Welcome to London. Not.

My third night in London and the following two crappy things happen:

1. My purse is stolen at a pub on the South bank.
2. As Nicole, her friend Iain and I leave the pub to find a police station to report the theft, Nicole receives a call from a flatmate. Turns out her flat has been broken into and pretty much ransacked the same night. It was an unfortunate coincidence.

I have cancelled my credit cards and my bank card. Luckily, I do not carry my passport out with me and most of my cash was in my room where I'm staying, though I'm out £40 and $30Cdn, which I might be able to get back from insurance. I was quite pissed to lose my 7-day Tube/Rail/Bus pass, which still had four days on it, and my ISIC card, which I went to a lot of trouble to get. I will also have to replace my university ID once I get home. I've spent the last 22 hours day mentally running through the contents of my purse, trying to figure out what I'm missing. Nat and Daorcey, the nice little notebook you gave me for my birthday was a casualty. Unfortunately, it also had some notes from a house I'd visited earlier that day that I had not yet transcribed to my computer. I also lost my house keys (for both here and Edmonton), but luckily someone in Edmonton has a spare set.

Otherwise, it has been a good trip so far, though it took me a while to get over the jetlag. Thursday I went to the Victoria & Albert museum (thought I'd take it easy), Friday I went to Osterley (I just realized that the photo on that webpage is of the back of the house!) and today I saw the Hogarth Exhibition at the Tate Britain. As I left this afternoon to see the exhibition, which I've been looking forward to for weeks, I must admit that I felt kind of naked without a bag of any kind.

Also, last night I learned that in Britain, "purse" means "wallet" while "handbag" indicates what Canadians would call a "purse." Something new everyday.

Posted 8:26 p.m. GMT

Becoming Jane: Snap Judgement

So even though I'm jetlagged and had a pint on a less-than-full stomach, I still can't resist posting on the Jane Austen biopic, which I saw tonight in London with Nicole. Be forewarned: I'm tired and this is rambling.

There are a large number of things wrong with this movie. First of all, it is just a bad movie. Period. It is poorly directed, poorly acted (with one exception), poorly scipted and very poorly plotted to the point where you think the movie is going to end at about five or six different points... and yet it continues. It is only two hours long, but it feels much longer, with no sense of a narrative arc or even act breaks.

Initially, the movie is merely boring, as Anne Hathaway's performance fails to make the viewer care about Austen at all. Hathaway's accent sounds affected and her line delivery occasionally too rushed, as if she thinks that saying something quickly automatically makes it clever. Hathaway is let down by a script that characterizes Austen as (as Nicole put it) a petulant teenager who does not know how to behave in society. There is too much Elizabeth Bennet in this portrayal; methinks a little wish fulfillment was at play on the screenwriters' parts.

But boredom is soon overtaken by incredulity, as the flirtation noted in Austen's letters escalates to a marriage proposal and then an attempted elopement. Austen is faced with not one, not two, but three — THREE! — suitors who all propose marriage at one point or another, and sometimes on more than one occasion. That is not an embarrassment of riches—it is just an embarrassment.

The movie pays little attention to Austen's development as a writer and when it does, it presents the situation as one in which Jane Austen had to have her heart broken in order to write great novels. In other words, she wrote well because of a man. The movie presents Austen with an intriguing dilemma between being a woman writer and being a wife, but does so by having Austen meet a highly popular contemporary (but older) novelist, Ann Radcliffe, who wrote Gothic novels which are nothing like Austen's novels, and which Austen herself satirized in Northanger Abbey. The Radcliffe reference makes little sense, and that's only assuming that the viewer gets the reference in the first place (most wouldn't).

The movie's basic premise, that Austen and Tom Lefroy could not marry for monetary reasons (she is penniless, he solely dependent on an older uncle for money and career advancement) though they loved each other dearly, tells us little about the author of Pride and Prejudice or Emma. Moreover, it turns the movie into a melodramatic tearjerker about star-crossed lovers, doing so most egregiously in the stupid epilogue in which the actors are aged 20 years. The epilogue is filled with ridiculous details—Austen is recognized as the author of Pride and Prejudice even though she published it anonymously, she gives a reading for a circle of society people in London, before which she accidentally runs into Tom Lefroy who is there with his eldest daughter, who is named Jane. Turns out the real Lefroy did name his eldest daughter Jane (as we learn at the movie's end, in which textual pieces of information are shown), but to take that fact as proof that he still loved Austen (assuming that he did in the first place) is to ignore the fact that 'Jane' was a not uncommon name in the late 18th century. And really, the entire epilogue was wholly unncessary.

Finally, some other points:

• The movie incorporates the existence of one of Austen's brothers, George, who was born with a developmental disability. In the movie, George is shown to be included in family fesitivies, and several characters, including Austen, use a type of sign language to communicate with him. In reality, a very young George Austen was boarded with another family who were paid to take care of him for the rest of his life, and the Austen family had little contact with him. There seems to be little point to the revisionist history of George Austen, except perhaps to redeem the Austen family, somehow, for something.
• The actress who plays Jane Austen's cousin Eliza de Feuillade bears a striking resemblance to Jennifer Ehle in the Pride and Prejudice mini-series. I'm not sure if it was deliberate or not.
  
• The incorporation of plot points and lines from Pride and Prejudice was superfluous. What kind of imagination did Austen have if she based every incident in her novels on real life?
• In one nocturnal scene, Jane Austen is inspired (by love, of course) to start writing Pride and Prejudice. She begins with the first chapter, and later in the montage we hear a passage from the middle of the novel. It is impossible for a person to type half of Pride and Prejudice in one night, much less write it out by quill pen.
• The movie's one redeeming factor is James McAvoy's performance as Tom Lefroy. McAvoy makes Lefroy a charming, likeable rogue who is also smart enough to talk about novels. Also, it doesn't hurt that McAvoy is a very attractive man.
• Director Julian Jarrods occasionally uses a shaky, hand-held camera, as if to give certain scenes more intimacy or emotional heft. Instead, the technique comes off as showy and self-indulgent. Moreover, when it's a period film, the illusion of realism is weaker because of the very showiness of the art direction and costume design.

And I guess that's more than long enough for now. Tomorrow: actual research.

Post time: 11:08 p.m., Wed. April 25 in London.

Jane Austen's portraits: Mary weighs in (I)

The disputed Rice Portrait of a young girl who might or might not be Jane Austen has failed to sell at auction on Thursday, ending an odd period in the mainstream media where Jane Austen's appearance was a topic of discussion. The portrait, and a recent controversy in which a British publisher retouched another Austen portrait to make her look prettier for public consumption, touches on several issues about authorship, appearance and the Austen industry. One day, I will figure out how to write an entire, publishable article about this, but in the meantime, here is part I of my blogthoughts.

1. The Rice Portrait
To sum up, a portrait of a young girl painted circa 1800 (give or take 10 years) was put up for auction in New York on Thursday with the selling price anticipated to be from $400,000–$800,000. The portrait is owned by the Rice family, descedents of Austen's brother Edward. The family claims that the portrait is of Austen, but there are no collaborating documents or mention of Austen having her portrait done in any letters. Though the painting's provenance was uncertain enough that the National Portrait Gallery in London wouldn't accept it, Christie's was happy to auction it as a portrait of Jane Austen. However, bids for the portrait failed to meet the reserve and it was withdrawn from sale.

I'm secretly quite pleased about this. The lack of interest in the portrait reassures me that people don't really care about Austen's appearance, at least not to the extent of $400,000. Moreover, considering that another painting by the same artist sold a few years ago for a $56,000, the anticipated asking price seems a little high, and shall I say... greedy. Also, an author's appearance should (ideally) have no bearing on how we read his/her works.

But, as with other attempts to "prettify" the author (more about those later), the Rice Portrait portrays a young girl who is undoubtedly attractive. The portrait is a stark contrast to the one accepted portrait of Austen in the National Gallery in London, in which she looks a little peeved and well, not that pretty. In a way, the completed Rice Portrait acts like a backwards corrective, proving that Austen was pretty at one point in ther life (pre-spinsterhood?). That begs the question, though, of why, if Austen was such a pretty young woman, she never got married?

More on the larger issue of the history of prettified Austen portraits in another post.

June Callwood on The Hour

So lovely. So sad.

"I believe in kindness. I think it's very communicable, just as meanness is, but even moreso, more powerful."

Something a little lighter...

To take my mind off the Virginia Tech news that I've been reading so much of online.

Did you know The Onion has started a news network? Since 1892.

Year End Party

If ever I needed a break at the end of a week, this was the week. Conveniently, the department held its year-end party last night, at a downstairs lounge of a Whyte Ave Greek restaurant.

Here's Al, Laura and I, looking spiffy and not too much into the sauce. This would change.


This photo was taken later. Clearly.


And the evening devolved into this:


Afterwards some of us came back to my place, ordered pizza, and took pictures of each other... at the same time:


Quotable highlights of the night included the phrases "I am so full of love", "my second encounter with sheep in England..." and "Too much boob? Qu'est-ce que c'est?". Laura made friends with Dialectic George, the Pizza 73 guy who took our order. Also, note to Karine: you must visit Hadrian's Wall and New Grange while in the UK. I have a stickie note that says so.

And finally, I took the best. photo. ever.

If he ever finds out this is on my blog, he'll kill me.

More photos here.

Translation help, please?

Logged out of my yahoo e-mail account today and was greeted by the following ad:

The colour of the text also flashes between red and blue.

Some questions that arise:
1. What does the ad actually say (I have no idea)?
2. Could it be for something vaguely illegal, seeing's how there are photos of US passports on it?
3. How did a solely-Chinese language ad appear on the Yahoo.com website?

Any answers would be greatly appreciated.

Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007

Kurt Vonnegut died tonight.

Despite being the voice of an earlier generation, I believe he still had a profound impact on each successive generation of youth. He will always be, I think, a university student's writer, an author whose books wide-eyed undergrads discover and read with electric recognition.

And he remained funny and sharp as he got older, even a couple of years ago when he appeared on The Daily Show. There was someone who did not mellow with age.

Becoming John?

News out of England that the quite romantic life story of Romantic poet John Keats will be made into a movie directed by Jane Campion. The movie will be titled Bright Star, after a poem that Keats wrote for his fiancée Fanny Brawne. Thank god it won't be called something insipid like Becoming John or Ode to Keats.


Keats will be played by young British actor Ben Wishaw, who seems appropriately wan and sallow. He does have to look like he [SPOILER ALERT!] dies of consumption at age 25.

New place

I am happy to report that I am 98% unpacked and it hasn't even been a week since I've moved. I would still like a trip to IKEA to get more office storage, but otherwise I'm okay with what I've got.

When you come in the front door, this is the view of the living room with the new (used) sofabed.










And a bit of a Cubist view from the desk side. (If you sit on the couch, you directly face the TV):



















My desk area in front of the window, from where I am writing this very post:










The dining room and kitchen:






















Even though I am almost fully unpacked, the bedroom is still not set up to my satisfaction, so no photos of that yet. Rest assured that there is also tonnes of storage space and that the bathroom is brighter than the one in the previous apartment.

So... who wants to come visit Edmonton?

Red rum, red rum

Without fail, everytime anyone comes to visit me, I get comments about the wallpaper in the building's hallways. This is what the ends of the hallways look like:

The psychedaelic/seizure-inducing wallpaper can also be found in the stairwells:


Up close it looks like this:

But the best part, which is not evident in photos, is that the red pattern is raised and fuzzy. It's also tactile!

So if I end up going a little nuts by the end of the PhD, it won't be entirely due to the dissertation.

List: New Apartment/Old Apartment

Things I miss about the old apartment:

• top (third) floor corner
• southern exposure with bedroom window facing west
• huge living room
• lots of storage
• light and airy

Things I like about the new apartment:

• green carpet instead of pukey brown
• water tight
  
• no giant holes in the walls of front room where dry wall was removed to dry out wet wall from leak
• new sofabed (thanks, Karine!)
• more storage
• brighter bathroom

Things I'll have to get used to in the new apartment:

• all windows face east, therefore apartment is less bright and airy
• more noisy neighbours, being on the second floor

The weirdest part is that the kitchen is similar to but not the same as the old kitchen, meaning that instead of adjusting to a whole new layout, I have to negotiate a weird layout that resembles the old one. It's kind of backwards, but not entirely.

Photos tomorrow. Fully unpacked (though could use an IKEA trip) but photos not yet hung.

Moved.

For the second time in my rental life (which has consisted of now four properties), I have moved within the same building to a different unit, this time due to water issues. While I was in a third floor south-facing corner unit, I am now in a second floor east facing unit which is technically on the SE corner but has no window facing south.

I am posting this from my old apartment, where I still have internet. Alas, I will be phone- and internet-less at home until Thursday because I called Shaw too late, but I guess that gives me more time to unpack and to actually do work. Of course I'll have internet access from school, but it's not the same.

Photos of new place once everything gets unpacked an arranged. The new place is about the same square footage, but the living area is smaller and the bedroom is larger. In fact, I would venture to say that they are about the same size. Carpet is also green instead of brown.

And finally, I have fantastic friends who not only helped me move but also took down old blinds and put up my curtains. Yay, friends.

(I suspect this chatty post is pre-compensation for not being connected for the next few days.)