I have been waiting to see this movie ever since I first read an article about it in Empire late last summer. Yes, expectations are high, and not because of the armful of Oscars accompanying the film, but because I’ve had a mind of doing something like it myself so the concept appeals to me on many levels.
Be back tomorrow with a full review.
Stitches along the
right side
of my soul.
Bite marks at the
left side
of my throat.
Claw marks on the
inside
of my heart.
Damning this feeling called love,
just to welcome it as the
only balm
for my battered being.
The Pillars of the Earth Part One: I enjoy this book because of the characters, but I don’t really enjoy the writing. It’s hard to explain why. It feels a bit like Dan Brown, who treats his readers like children who don’t understand anything and feels the need to repeat his oh-so-uncomplicated plot twists on every five pages just to make absolutely sure the reader haven’t missed a step. Ick. Ken Follett isn’t that bad, but he has a strange language. It’s almost juvenile at times in the way he describes the characters emotions and reactions… It’s not my cup of tea. Because of this – and because I’ve recently bought a bunch of books – I’m putting the second and third part aside and focusing on some of the other titles. First out:
Circeln (The Circle): I enjoyed this book because of its characters, which were well-rounded and interesting. They formed a great little clique of people having to interact in spite of their differences. I didn’t think much happened in terms of plot, to be honest, but this did feel like the setting-the-story-up for the coming two installments in this trilogy so perhaps the authors can be forgiven for that. It was a good read, either way.
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The Lies of Locke Lamora:
TV-series
Legend of the Seeker S2: It started off annoyingly slow and the fact that my hero and one of the prettiest, loveliest, most naturally beautiful women EVER whom I was incredibly inspired by in the first season – namely Bridget Regan aka Kahlan – now seemed to have had stuff injected into her lips made me depressed and put me off the show completely. I know, kind of silly, but I could totally see her as this character I’ve had in my head for nearly a decade and then, when she went and did that, I just lost my leading lady. 🙂 Anyway, I enjoy Craig Horner and I still loved them together and the season picked up. The ending was awesome.
Prime Suspect (The Last Witness and first episode A Price to Pay): Helen Mirren. Mark Strong. Ben Miles. Need I say more? The first episode of this renowned series that I’ve seen and yes, I did enjoy it very much. It’s crime as intelligent drama and it’s wonderful.
Den Som Draeber (Those Who Kill): The Danes sure know how to write good TV-crime and dramas and this is no exception. I don’t know how they do it, how they get their standard just that much higher than us Swedes – because I’ll willingly admit we usually suh-huck at it – but they do and it’s awesome.
Sherlock S2: This show is the most brilliant rendition of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson since… Well, since Jeremy Brett’s era. If you’re looking at the TV contribution of Sherlocks, that is. Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law can’t be beat when it comes to the big screen. Benedict Cumberbatch is such a brilliant Sherlock it almost hurts my head to watch him, and Martin Freeman as Watson is unbelievably awesome. Put them together and you have a wow-factor that shines as brightly as a billion stars. And that’s a lot of stars. I LOVE IT. Also, Andrew Scott is the wickedest Moriarty E.V.E.R.
Films
17 Again: I adore this movie. I was pleasantly surprised by Zac High School Forever Efron and his comic timing and the feeling persists no matter how many times I see it. The fact that the surrounding cast is excellent and the writing is lovely only makes for a really funny movie experience. See it, if you haven’t already.
Death at a Funeral (original UK version): Alright, yes, [SPOILER] tying up a little person and gagging him while accidentally drugging him out of his mind doesn’t sound very nice, but it sure is funny. See it!
Curly Sue:This is one of those lovely 80’s classics. It’s an endearing and heartfelt story about a little girl living on the streets with Bill, played by James Belushi, and how they scam their way to food from strangers. One of these happen to be the successful lawyer Grey, played by Kelly Lynch. It’s a funny, warm and fuzzy story that is still very real and shows the hardships of being broke and caring for a child.
The Romantics: Katie Holmes, Josh Duhamel, Anna Paquin, Malin Akerman, Elijah Wood and the love of my life Adam Brody, amongst others, compete for screen time in this little gem of an indie movie. It’s set during the day and night before the wedding of Lila (Anna Paquin) and Tom (Josh Duhamel). The old college gang with which they both hung have arrived to attend and old emotions are beginning to flare up. It was a very nicely told, well-acted story of lost love, friendship and rivalry.
I Rymden Finns Inga Känslor (In SpaceThere Are No Emotions): When Sam’s girlfriend breaks up with him he becomes depressed. To cheer him up, and get things back to normal, his socially awkward brother Simon (Bill Skarsgård) decides to set out on a quest to find Sam a new, perfect, girlfriend. Struggling with his own Asperger Syndrome, the quest is more difficult than Simon first expected. This is one of the best Swedish films to come out of our industry in many years. It’s wonderfully funny, awkward and has a great, big, beating heart. I adore it.
The Crucible:
Friends With Benefits:
Crazy Stupid Love:
Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou:
Fandangle: A fandangle may be a useless or purely ornamental thing. It may also refer to something nonsensical, foolish or silly: “A big white wedding is a huge fandangle for not much return.”
(Source: http://www.worldwidewords.com)
_____________________Use In a Sentence__________________________
“Gretchen.”
“Hmh?”
“Gretchen! Would you come into the sitting room, please, dear?”
“Of course, Henry, dear. What is it?”
“Well… that.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes?”
“That’s what it is, Gretchen. That.”
“It’s quite pretty.”
“Well, don’t act so surprised, woman, you must have put it there.”
“Mind your blood-pressure, dear.”
“Oh, that has been your go-to get-out-of-an-argument free-card for five years now – enough about my bleeding blood-pressure! If you were so concerned you wouldn’t go out and waste my money on frivolous shiny things created solely to collect dust on mantle pieces all across the British bloody Isles!”
“Why is it that whenever you’re in a bad temper it’s suddenly your money? You make it sound like a perfect accusation. I didn’t marry you for your money, you know.”
“Oh, blooming rat icicles, woman!”
“Stop calling me woman, you know how I dislike it so.”
“You are a woman!”
“The way you use it makes it sound like it’s wrong of me to be a woman! Would you rather be married to a girl? A little girl, perhaps? Or a man, Henry? Are you deep down a homosexual and afraid to admit it, even to me, your wife of twelve years? That’s half a lifetime to some people.”
“Don’t cry. I dislike it when you cry. And I am not a homosexual, Gretchen, dear. And I know you didn’t marry me for my silly money and of course it’s our money. There, there. There, there.”
“Stop patting me, Henry.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Now, cook is in an upset over the luncheon tomorrow. Something about the quails eggs being delayed in Brighton. I must go see to it, you do understand, don’t you, dearest?”
“Yes, yes, go see to it, naturally. It’s what you do…”
She leaves.
“‘It’s quite pretty’. Takes me for a fool. A perfect fandangle is what it is. Crystal? I would think so. Perhaps I should smash it against the hearth and teach her a lesson? … But that would bring tears… Oh, it’s heavy. Just a lump of bloody crystal sitting on top of the bloody mantel piece. Surely Anne and Karen and what’s-her-name will oooooh and aaaahhhh their way through the damned luncheon. I’ll have to make up an excuse not to be here. Perhaps I should make a doctor’s appointment. You mustn’t muck about with your blood-pressure, Henry, old fellow, now must you?”
_____________________________________________________________
But a glimpse
and my heart
begins racing.
But a smile
and my back
has grown wings.
But a touch
and I know
everlasting,
that you
are the
splendid of things.
I looked from one to the other.
“Look,” I finally broke the silence, “I’ve had a really rough night and a very strange morning and I’m beginning to get completely weirded out by this whole situation so please just explain it to me so that I can understand why you look like you’re both about to throw up. Please.”
I added the last specifically aimed at my sister and she clearly softened because her face muscles relaxed – I actually saw them relaxing – and she came up to me, ushering me gently over to a chair and making me sit down before bringing out the piece of paper from her apartment.
“This is part of a larger volume kept at the vaults in Saltbrooke,” she said.
I frowned.
“There are vaults in Saltbrooke?”
“Will you not interrupt me, maybe?”
I clamped my lips shut and focused on the odd tangle of foreign letters and symbols which filled the paper.
“It’s Monaic – their language. It’s a journal entry, written nearly three-hundred and fifty years ago, telling of how a young man came to be invited to a midnight soirée and offered immortality if he would sacrifice his younger sister. The vampire overlord wanted her for a pet, you see, to be drained over and over for the rest of her life. However long he managed to keep himself from killing her, that is.”
I swallowed hard, feeling an uncomfortable lump in the middle of my throat at the mere thought of it. I already knew who the young man was.
“But he didn’t sacrifice her,” I said, certain I was right.
“He did,” Maryann said. “He writes how he’d always been selfish and careless and how his sister had just yelled at him for throwing their father’s inheritance away. He was tired of her. So he brought her to the overlord. He writes that he can still hear her screams as they closed the door behind him.”
“He got her out of there.”
I’m convinced now.
Maryann shakes her head slowly.
“No, this is what we’re dealing with – understand? This is what they are. They have no conscience. He doesn’t write anything about regret or sorrow. Journals written over a century of chronicling his journey and that’s the only mention of her. That’s what he had to do to become one of them. There’s no humanity in them.”
“And wasn’t it a human who made the choice to hand her over?” I exclaimed, unsure of why I was so incredibly defensive all of a sudden.
Father Ignesius had removed his collar and stepped through the door of a bathroom to now emerge wearing black jeans and a grey sweater. He looked simple and ordinary. When he’d worn the guise of a man of God at least he’d had some clout, I’d thought, but now I just thought of how Seth had tackled the Lion and I felt like laughing at them. What did they think they were going to do?
“Have you ever even seen one?” I asked.
Father Ignesius paused, meeting my gaze with the same unflinching stare that Seth had granted me only a few hours earlier.
“Yes,” the father replied and something about it sent a chill up my spine.
“What’s the original sword?” I asked.
The father smiled. I thought it was almost sad.
“It’s part of an old saying.”
“An old saying?” I asked, my eyebrows raising. “That’s why you’re so worked up?”
“‘We all exist in world forlorn till sword of wood show our scorn’,” he cited. “It’s their… Roman eagle. Their seal. It’s enough to create flames that won’t simply allow for us to smother them back down. These flames will spread like wildfire. Have already begun to.”
“What are you saying here?” I asked. “That the vampires are… converging? How many are there? Can’t be that many if they can stay hidden.”
The father and Maryann exchanged another of those knowing glances and I felt like stomping my feet. I didn’t want to ask silly questions or say stupid things, but twelve hours ago I would have scoffed at the mere word ‘vampire’ and here I had to suddenly deal with there being a vampire crisis?
“Give me a break,” I sighed.
They seemed to at least grow regretful at that as Maryann said:
“You know all those things you read about them? They’re fast, strong, got great hearing, sight, smell? Yeah, that’s all true. Add to that that they’re incredibly smart – I mean, some of them have had a thousand years to hone their intellect smart – then if you put a hundred of them in a battle field against a human army then you might have a slim possibility of standing as victor. Aim a thousand of them at the same target and the human race honestly don’t have a hope in hell.”
“Why haven’t they just… aimed themselves before?” I asked.
“Because they’re too disorganized,” the father replied. “Until now. If they – how did you put it…?”
“Converge.”
“Right, if they converge around the sword then there’s no telling what they’ll do.”
“So how many are there?” I asked, trying not to sound panicked.
Maryann replied slowly:
“That we know of… closer to ten thousand.”
The ocean
Eternal
Swallows me whole
Twirls me about
And spits me out on the other side of the world
In pieces.
Some months I read like a maniac – others I don’t take the time to. This has been one of those months where I’ve felt inspired and I’ve been reading a few interesting titles. I thought, anyway. Here they are:
The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925): As a movie is coming out, starring Brad Pitt as Gatsby, as far as I’ve read, I simply had to read this book. I enjoyed it. It had an absolutely stunning language with descriptions that really made me feel a part of those great parties at Gatsby’s estate and the flavor of the twenties is so intoxicating to me. It seems like such a time of change and yet it’s somewhat overlooked, especially in the movies. There’s a subtle, homoerotic note to the male friendships in the novel, as seen through the eyes of it’s narrator – Nick Carraway – and as with The Picture of Dorian Gray I always find those small hints of something else underneath the surface intriguing. Perhaps it’s just me.
One Day (David Nicholls, 2009): I thought this was a lovely book. There was an incredible UST with the unfulfilled love and the misunderstandings and the miscommunications. It was heart-wrenching, gut-churning, terribly, horribly wonderful. I’m looking forward to watching the movie. Sort of.
The Hunger Games Trilogy (Suzanne Collins, 2008-2010): I’m still sort of letting these books simmer in the back of my head. I really enjoyed reading the first book, I thought the second book was good and then the third one was just not told from the viewpoint that would have given me the most satisfaction, even though I thought the ending fitted the series and was quite moving. I though, perhaps, Ms. Collins got a little too hung up on the reality TV theme when I felt she could have eased up a bit in the third book, but then the ending wouldn’t have been as fitting as it is now, so… Yeah, I’m letting it simmer. Very good reads, either way, and highly recommended.
The Pillars of the Earth: I’ve only just started and am a little ways into the first chapters. I saw the BBC mini-series and simply wanted to get a closer look at the world and the characters. So far it’s not disappointing me.
Att Springa (To Run): This was a very sad, dark look at what really goes on in picture-perfect suburbia. It tells the tale of two young girls who are best friends and are just starting 7th grade, which means all sorts of changes. The biggest changes take place outside of school, though, as the underlying tone of violation in one home is highlighted by the love and companionship in the other. It was a good read, but not if you’re looking for a book that makes you smile on a Sunday morning.
I realize I’ve had a month of movie-driven reading, which amuses me. I’m really curious to see how The Hunger Games will translate on film, but I feel that it’s almost as though the part was written for Jennifer Lawrence – she will kick ass as Katniss – so I’m not worried about her performance in the lead. I didn’t think the Capitol was described in a way that’s simple to make into something intriguing – it felt very early nineties electro-pop to me – but we’ll see. I’m sure they’ll make something wonderful of all those bright colors and spiky hair. 🙂
I stood still on the steps of the church. It was the largest building in town. And the oldest. It was gray and heavy and ominous, somehow. As though it had ears and was constantly listening for that one sound, that one word, that would force it to shake off the ages of dust and transform into some living thing set for destruction.
I had no problems with God, I might add. I hadn’t been raised in a religious family, but I’d had plenty of religious friends and knew all about faith and its dealings. It had never truly appealed to me, it felt as though there were more restraints put on you than freedom was allowed you and in my teens I had been all about freedom. About travel and getting as far away as possible. I hadn’t turned to God, but I had been shackled all the same. To family, to friends, to a job that didn’t pay enough for me to really save anything and definitively not enough to actually leave, make a break for it.
I realized this as I looked up at the structure before me, it’s large, colored window glowing in the sunlight, and suddenly it didn’t look so foreboding.
However, the visor grip of my sister’s hand on my arm brought me back to the fact that this building, as far as I knew, represented death to the undead who bit me and clearly my sister had brought me there to that end.
“Maryann,” I said softly.
She let me go as I followed her in through the heavy wooden doors. It slammed shut behind us, causing a loud echo to vibrate through the church as the doors leading into it were propped open.
The pews stood at a slight angle toward the aisle, the altar at the front had two steps leading up to it and a pristine white linen cloth covering it. Two candles burned and a golden cross has been placed between them on top of the altar. Hand-paintings of Jesus and his apostles covered the walls. It was a beautiful, serene place, empty of worshippers at that time of day.
“Maryann,” I more or less hissed and she stopped, impatient as she turned to me.
“What?”
“Could you let me in on the plan here?” I asked quietly.
“I’m taking you to see Father Ignesius. He’ll let you in on the plan.”
“A priest?”
She merely smiled and continued down the aisle, leading the way into the sacristy. It smelled of aged stone and burned candle wax. Father Ignesius was there. He was younger than I had expected, with a dimpled chin and a wide, white smile. He was actually quite handsome, not older than forty, though I was fairly certain he was closer to thirty-five. He received a kiss on the cheek from my sister, but his eyes stayed in mine and he reached out his hand.
“You must be…”
His smile faded as he suddenly spotted the markings on my neck.
“Bitten,” my sister more or less filled in his sentence.
He nodded slowly.
“So, it’s true,” he murmured. “They’ve come.”
“All of it’s true,” my sisters stated. “Ask her. That’s Sebastian’s handiwork. Or, I guess, toothywork.”
“You saw him?” Father Ignesius snapped and suddenly the calm, priestly exterior gave way for something as focused and determined as my sister. “When? Where did you see him? Did he speak with you? Did he carry something with him?”
“Look, before I tell you anything I just want to say that Seth saved me, okay? There was this guy and he was huge and threatening and he would’ve hurt me, I know it.”
“You know it?” the father inquired. “Or you know it because you were told to know it?”
“What do you mean ‘told’? Seth didn’t say anything about… He didn’t tell me to… Did he? He said there would be bad men coming. That I shouldn’t speak of him to anyone. He tried to make me forget.”
“He told you to forget?” my sister asked, clear surprise in her voice. “And you didn’t?”
She shared a quick glance with the father that made me frown. I didn’t get a chance to ask before the father repeated:
“Did he carry something with him? This is very important information to us. Please.”
I couldn’t see how it could hurt to tell them.
“A sword,” I therefore said.
“My God,” the father mumbled, taking a step back in what I assumed to be shock.
“See,” my sister said quietly. “It’s all true. They have the original sword. Hell is about to freeze over.”
Cinderella Sleeps in Snow 