BOOK: The Thirteenth Tale

"Eerie and fascinating..." USA Today said. This is the more diplomatic way of saying what most readers, including myself, may have thought. My words were along the lines of...bizarre. Twisted. And more than a little creepy.
Don't get me wrong - I thoroughly enjoyed it. The writing is absolutely beautiful - I began marking passages that I liked, but stopped after the first chapter when I realized I was turning the entire book yellow - I thought briefly about highlighting the passages that did nothing for me, but that just seemed silly, so I laid my highlighter aside and just immersed myself in the rhetoric. The words, their style and their rhythm reminiscent of an earlier period in literary history when the words with which the story is written are equally as important as the story they tell, these words were paced. It was no Twilight - no rush through the tale, no reading into the deepest recesses of the night, no looking up and realizing that you've read 50 pages in the last half hour but have learned nothing. It had depth. It required mastication. In shorter terms, Thirteenth Tale was not, as my brother so aptly book it, "intellectual popcorn". Neither was it chicken soup. Neither caviar nor stew. No, it was more like a Reuben. A little tart and difficult to swallow at times, neither wholly tasteful nor bad-tasting, neither elite nor ordinary, odd but gently addicting.
In fact, that is exactly how I would describe the book - gently addicting. I found, halfway through it, that although I felt no particular connection to the characters or their stories, when I considered not finishing the book, something nudged me to continue. A soft curiosity which never once turned to obsession. As the tale progressed, that soft curiosity did turn into a more resolute wonderment. The twisted tale, impossible to deduce the mysteries, was appealing for its bizarre tragedy. But more than anything, I appreciated the fact that, although the story was strange, it was certainly not unbelievable, especially because there was no stupid sidestory - no one was being followed, no chase scenes, no bomb to defuse. Just painful secrets. I was wrapped in the story, like a very warm blanket, but it did not force itself on me and smother me like other books have (again, Twilight comes to mind). It was beautiful in its simplicity, and simple in its beauty.

The book ends well, with resolution and a beautiful closure. It was a book that, upon finishing, I furrowed my brow. Hm, I thought. Hm.






My recommendation: read it.

MUSICAL: The Pirate Queen

Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg, the masterful team who brought the world such soaring musicals as Les Miserables and Miss Saigon, have written a new musical: The Pirate Queen. The story, a historical drama, is touching and desperate and sweet, and while the show opened to generally bad reviews and sales, the music is alright. I say "alright" because, although I have grown to like it very much through repeated listenings, I was quite disappointed at first. It seems as though Boublil and Schonberg are attempting to be Andrew Lloyd Webber in their use of electric guitars, when, in reality, the reason why their other projects have been so impressively successful is in their ability to utilize a classical orchestra, and especially violins. No one can forget the strikingly poignant melodies of Les Miserables - why not use a formula that has been proven a triumph? Of course, the music of a show is only icing - it is the story that really matters, even though some would argue otherwise. For example, the music from Wicked, a show whose story is based around the life of the Wicked Witch of the West, held no beauty for me until I knew the story. It has since become a personal favorite.(Interestingly, the woman who played Elphaba in the production of Wicked which my sister and cousins saw in Denver is the star of Pirate - Stephanie J. Block) The Pirate Queen has a good story,an exceptionally good story, actually. One that is perfectly formulated to the emotions of an audience - but it is not put together especially well.
Nonetheless, I like the music, particularly "Woman" and "I'll be There".

MOVIE: Prince Caspian

The first movie they made was amazing. It sang. I wasn't concerned for the next, per se, but I was...apprehensive. Prince Caspian exceeded all expectations. It was a little odd at first because the children have grown up a lot, especially Lucy. The filmmakers were very prudent in giving Lucy a lot of screen time in the beginning, allowing the viewer to get used to how different she looks before more focus is needed in the story. Very clever.
The film was paced but exciting. It was funny and cute where it needed to be, and all the characters were not only likable but believable. The changes in storyline from Lewis' book were all brilliant and entertaining, like showing the attack on the castle.
Like the previous trip to Narnia, this adventure was moving and sweet, demonstrating the family dynamic of the Pevensie siblings perfectly. Edward has matured, and he was very fun to watch, especially when Peter is involved. Peter, of course, is so darn good looking that you can't help cheering him on, even though he makes several costly mistakes and is a bit of a brat sometimes - with good reason, but nonetheless... Prince Caspian was a force to be reckoned with - he was handsome and charming and an able swordsman. But the real star, for me, was Susan. She is strong and brave and sweet, and smart, and she's beautiful: an inspiring combination. One can see in her the very epitome of female ability - how empowering she is!
I was completely lost in the film. My heart leapt when they found victory, and broke for the ones who fell. It was almost as if we were connected, like their joy was my joy and their sorrow mine, too.
The end of the film sets up perfectly for the next adventure, a little bittersweet because of the parting of the ways, but understandable, too. There will be no surprise when the two characters don't return to Narnia, and I admire the way in which the filmmakers made that distinction.
A truly, truly, beautiful film which I fully intend on watching over and over and over - I might even like it better than Wardrobe. SEE IT.

BOOK: Twilight

I can see immediately why this book is so popluar. It is a quick, mindless read; the kind of book that leads you through the story as if you're a child in a maze. When I finished it, however, it left me feeling...indifferent. I really didn't care, and I didn't care that I didn't care. It boasted only mediocrities: fairy sharp characters, ok-ish plot, more than average writing skill, but still fell short. Way short.
I've thought a lot about this. It was enjoyable and enthralling, a book I couldn't put down. It created good imagery and the characters were engaging and relatable. All this, and yet...
I decided that this feeling of indifference is perhaps because it was too microcosmic - there was no "bigger picture" which made it seem not only lacking but selfish. Besides the two main characters, all the people in the book were satellites at best.
Also, the reader is not engaged in the story. There are no mysteries to solve, no villains to worry about (until the last few pages), and no shared emotions. And why should I care about these two kids? I don't. I think they're interesting, but I don't know them- I don't feel a sence of ownership that comes with mutual understanding and trust.
This book has been compared to Harry Potter, but Harry Potter is way out of its league. There were anachronisms, impossible plot lines, and questions left unanswered. However, it was good. It worth reading, and I'll probably read the next two.

PLAY: The Civil War

I have never been the slightest bit interested in American History, so when my friend told me the name of the play he was in, The Civil War, I was somewhat less than ecstatic. However, he has the most beautiful voice I have ever heard; I would walk through the desert to see him sing.
The Civil War, though , was written by the composer of one of my very favorite plays, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and plus it featured Merrill Osmond and Joseph Paur (the guy from Rigoletto), so I convinced Danielle to go with me last Saturday. It was not really a play, more like a concert, or better yet, a Civil War musical experience. The songs were deep and powerful, and even though there were no central characters or plot lines, I was sincerely moved by the poignant stories of these ordinary and yet noble people.
I felt the excitement as men enlisted to be part of the Union or Rebel Armies, the confidence, the arrogance, but also their resolve, strength, and the power of men banded by commonality. I knew that they were not afraid to fight for what they believed in, but I also knew that they had no idea what they were getting into. I heard the nostalgia in a voice whose homeland served as a battle ground and ran red with the blood of both armies. I saw the nobility and courage of the generals who led the armies, knowing that the blood of the soldiers killed was on their hands, yet having enough faith in their cause to make that sacrifice.
I was present as a dying son penned his last words to his father, and I felt sorrow for a boy whose life was stolen. I felt the pain and pity in the voice of a nurse who cared for a nameless boy who died in her arms. She said they all looked the same, whether wearing Blue or Grey, and I knew it was true, and we both wondered what this conflict was all about, how brother could fight against brother and kill each other because of their hatred.
I mourned with a young wife when she bid her husband goodbye, and as they corresponded, and finally, when she received the news that he had been killed. I saw real tears on her face and mine, but I knew that she would was not broken: the nobility of strong women was evident in her every move.
And finally, I followed the stories of slaves whose strong, black chorus, the words of which were so powerful and moving that I couldn't help but rejoice and mourn simultaneously. I was there when Frederick Douglass spoke with Abraham Lincoln, and with those waiting outside to hear whether or not they could finally be free. I wish you could hear the music that accompanies these lyrics. It is powerful and brave and strong.

"Look at these hands.
I stole them from my master,
Look through these eyes,
Imagine what they've seen

Look at these words:
"To God, all men are equal"!
Write them again,
In letters black and strong"

The tragedy of the situation is beyond words. No amount of sympathy, no recommence can be too great for the hiddeous misdeeds pressed upon this race, who are strong and faithful. These lines were particularly piercing:

"I remember the old ones would tell me
'Bout a land that lay over the water
So far, far away
Where they said we had kingdoms
They said we had kingdoms"

We didn't just steal these people from a lesser life. They were Kings once, of empires far more advanced, and far larger, than any other. The enslaved chorus was beautiful and tragic, strong but resolved, waiting only for the slightest enablement.
It was so moving, in fact, that I have spent every spare moment looking for a recording of the original musical. When I get it, I expect everyone to be as moved as I was. Until then, here is a list of lyrics.

MUSIC: The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll

My new favorite song: Dylan's The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll. I heard this song a long time ago with my dad, and I loved it. We heard it on the radio; my dad's Dylan collection did not include this number. I never forgot it, though, the slow paced beauty of the sweet melody contrasted with the horrific tale of Hattie Carroll. My friend Eric gave me a CD recently which included this pearl. The song is sorrowful and paced, as contrasted to Dylan's more famous song of the American justice's system injustice, whose angry passion is driven into one's soul with such force as to make one upset. Hattie Carroll, though, is truly tragic. A beautiful, true, and sorrowful song. Everyone should listen to it.

"But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears."