Monday, April 11, 2016

Old letters

I've been looking for my birth certificate to make an application for Ontario Disability Support Payments.  I was looking through some stuff in my room the other day and found a slew of old letters that were written to me when I was researching my Ph.D. in London in 1995.  The birth certificate search got derailed as I read all through them.

Letter writing is a dying art, alas.  Many of these letters were written by my sister Moira, including a couple from the Czech Republic where she was finishing a teaching job.  I remember how her letters had a Czech stamp showing Miroslav Ondracek, the cinematographer who shot Milos Forman movies like Amadeus.  At Goodenough College where I was staying there were some kids who collected stamps and posted envelopes you could put your used stamps in!  They got quite a few Canadian stamps from me.

I'm sure glad I saved these letters!  When I told Moira I still had  her letters she said, "Throw them away!" But she was a really good letter writer, not just funny and readable but also with very neat handwriting.  Father's letters, on the other hand, are barely legible.  There's also part of a letter from Mother, which means a lot to me since she's no longer with us.  And there are a few from friends I made in London who wrote to me afterward.

There was also a letter I wrote back in 1991.  Here's part of what I said:

"The Allies are betraying the Kurds twice:  firstly in not supporting their rebellion; and secondly in trying to force the refugees to return into Saddam Hussein's loving arms.  The problem with Americans is that they think they can bomb Iraq back into the pre-industrial age and still not 'get involved' in the region's political problems.  Some people say that by not supporting the Kurdish rebellion the United States lost her moral advantage in the region.  I disagree.  What America's cowardice proves is that this moral advantage was bogus from the beginning.  

"One thing that bothers me is American liberals hedging their opposition to the war by praising Bush for articulating America's 'moral purpose.' In fact, he was simply propagating a straightforward lie.  If we accept the argument that Kurdistan has to remain part of Iraq to protect the latter's 'territorial integrity' and the the Kurds can go jump, how much of an extension is it to apply the same rationale to Kuwait?  If anything, Kurdistan with her longstanding unique identity--and three times Kuwait's population--is even less a legitimate part of Iraq than Kuwait, which was only separated less than a century ago.

"What's remarkable is that most Americans accept so easily that it's a jungle out there and they can no longer afford moral commitments, now that Iraq is crushed and 'morals' have served their strategic purpose.  This doublethink over morals isn't limited to the American government:  I fear the general population has connived in it.  In their thinking, they way to a happy world is through Pax Americana, so anything that promotes Uncle Sam promotes the general good, and is therefore moral automatically.  

"It all comes down to Lookin' Out for Number One.  America's true purpose is obviously to protect the region's strategic status quo ante, first by reducing Iraq to rubble, then by preventing her destabilization.  Divide and conquer, in other words.  Uncle Sam's greatest nightmare is that someday the Middle East will be united by some political force that the U.S. obviously won't be able to control.

"You should reread Christopher Hitchens' article in January's Harper's.  He prophesied exactly what would happen to the Kurds."

I'm glad that letter got saved too.

Friday, April 08, 2016

Meetups

"I'm too hot for this old folk's home!"--Why Be Good?

On Sunday afternoon the Classic Book Club met and we talked about I, Claudius.  Malcolm has been attending so steadily that I made him assistant organizer! (He has a big video collection, including some historical movies that I might show in the History Discussion Group screenings.)

Wednesday night was the History Discussion Group, where we discussed Herodotus and ancient Egypt.  Margo was afraid I might see her as usurping my authority, but I've made her assistant organizer as well.  If it turns out Debi can't arrange the screenings at her place, Margo's apartment building has a similar place.

We got some interesting ideas going about future events.  For July, we'll read Pierre Berton's Canada and talk about it near Canada Day, maybe even at Black Creek Pioneer Village!  For August, I'll reschedule the Roaring Twenties event that didn't get off the ground in December, and Margo would like to host a 20s-themed party at her place!  I'm already thinking of movie posters and such that I could print off the internet for decorations.

Speaking of the '20s, tonight I saw the formerly "lost" silent movie Why Be Good? at the Royal with the Classic Movie Meetup, as part of the latest Toronto silent film festival. (To answer the question:  Well, being good may not be easier than being naughty, but it tends to be a lot simpler!) It starred jazz baby Colleen Moore, and silent-era star Neil Hamilton, who later played Commissioner Gordon in the '60s TV series Batman! ("Is this the end of the Dynamic Duo? Tune in tomorrow, same bat-time, same bat-channel!") Some great '20s slang like "See you in jail!" CM's speech near the end had an early feminist message about how men want women to be fun, then blame them for not being "nice girls"!

Sunday, April 03, 2016

Dreamland

I've been having vivid dreams lately.  The other night I dreamed of meeting New York wit Fran Leibowitz in the local No Frills supermarket and finding her friendlier than I expected. (They were interviewing her in that Tiffany's documentary.) 

When I dream, I remember things that I've dreamed before as if they were real memories.  I have a repeating dream where I'm considering starting a new university course and wondering whether I'm up to the challenge.  In another one I've been trying to finish my Ph.D. thesis but there seems no hope.  Then I wake up and remember that I did finish it over 15 years ago.  And I often dream of being in Halifax, where I spent a lot of time in the '80s. (For someone from a small town, it was a "starter city.") The other day I was wondering, Is my dream world better than my real one?

This week I saw two movies at the Carlton Magic Lantern cinema.  They were exhibiting some paintings by Jeannie, whom I know from the Classic Movie Meetup. (She likes cats!)

Sunday I saw 45 Years, with Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay as a couple approaching their 45th anniversary.  It occurred to me that men don't understand all the things that can make women insecure. (We're just not equipped for it!)

Monday I saw the Coen Brothers' Hail, Caesar, an odd comedy about a Hollywood studio trouble-shooter in the 1950s.  It's a bit like their earlier Barton Fink.

Tuesday, with the Easter weekend over, I went to Shoppers Drug Mart and bought a ton of chocolate at a discount.  Best of all was the Ferrero Rochers, my favourite candy. (I brought some to choir practice on Wednesday.)

Sunday, March 27, 2016

I'm in a good mood!

James Cagney (to his veteran brother): "You didn't get those medals by holding hands with them Germans!"--The Public Enemy

Why am I in a good mood?  Because Debi in the History Discussion Group told me that her apartment building has a common room with a DVD player that we might be able to use for screening historical movies as I planned! (Malcolm in the Classic Book Club has several DVDs we can show.) But we'll have to see how things work out, of course.

I'm also in a good mood because Bernie Sanders has been winning several state caucuses and can't yet be counted out of the race. (If the Democrats nominate Hillary Clinton, they'll be taking a big risk!)

Wednesday night we had choir practice and Paolo was pleased by my list of our past material.  That evening we tried some new folk songs, some of which I remember doing in past years.

Thursday night I saw William Wellman's The Public Enemy yet again with the Classic Movie Meetup at Eton House.  It's one of those movies I can see over and over!  Besides James Cagney and Jean Harlow, Joan Blondell has a supporting role. (She's one of my favourite '30s actresses.) That's when I met Debi, who mentioned the room.

This afternoon I went to John Snow's book club.  I didn't have time to read Camus' The Plague or the Wilde story "Birth of the Infanta," but I did finish the Mann story "Little Herr Friedemann"!

Afterward I saw the documentary Crazy About Tiffany's at the Bloor.  Luxury kind of depresses me.

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Danny Boy

I mentioned that I sang "Danny Boy" at the History Discussion Group the other week.  Since this is the season of St. Patrick's Day, I got to do it a few more times.

Last week I sang it to the memoir group and they were charmed.  The room where we meet has a curved ceiling which causes echoes.  That's an obstacle to hearing conversation, but it's well suited to singing.

Saturday I sang it at the Play Readthrough Meetup, which I hadn't been to for a while, at the Annette library.  We had fun reading through J.M. Synge's Playboy of the Western World, which I saw on the stage back at age eight! (I was a bit late because the St. Clair streetcar wasn't operating, but that didn't matter.) I think I can speak with a brogue!

Sunday I sang it for the Reading Out Loud Meetup, where the topic was Irish writing.  I read the chapter in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels where he visiting the grand academy of Lagodo (he was making fun of the Royal Society, I now realize); the section of Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes where he made good money selling a banned magazine page on birth control; the introductory verses of the first three cantos of Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queen; and W.B. Yeats' "A Prayer for My Daughter."

I've made a list of all the music the choir's done since I joined it a dozen years ago, and printing it out took a dozen pages!  (I'd saved all the scores they gave me.) I was going to give it to Paolo at Monday night's rehearsal, but it got delayed to tomorrow night!

Tonight I went to a Theology Meetup with a pastor talking about translating and codifying the Torah.  This stuff fascinates me!

Reading Doctor Zhivago, I've found myself slipping in and out of it. (I felt the same way reading a long essay by fellow Russian Joseph Brodsky.)

Friday, March 18, 2016

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO

"He invited Mama, but Mama could not go, she was indisposed.  Mama said, 'Take Lara.  You're always cautioning me, "Amalia, see to Lara." So go now and see to her.' And he saw to her all right!  Hahaha!"-- Doctor Zhivago (whoopee, a triple-iterated quotation!)

(after a handshake) "You have quite an imagination!  That's what comes from writing movies." "You have quite a grip!  That's what comes from counting cash"--In a Lonely Place

I finally finished the philanthropy issue of Lapham's Quarterly and now I've started the fashion issue.  I've also started reading Doctor Zhivago in its new translation, for John Snow's book club.  In the first chapter he introduces two important characters who aren't in the movie!

I've had mixed feelings about the movie--beautiful but a bit superficial--but the novel is starting to grow on me.  The description of the protest march is pretty vivid. (When I was reading it I missed my subway stop and had to get off at Eglinton West to return to St. Clair West!)

Sunday afternoon I was going to see the movie of South Pacific at the Event Screen, but I was an hour late! (Bloody Daylight Savings Time...) But at least I wasn't late for a Meetup event.  That evening I saw the documentary Guantanamo's Child:  Omar Khadr at the Bloor.  He clearly should have been treated as a child soldier instead of being railroaded for murder and subjected to a show trial.  His case reminds me of a classic Apocalypse Now! line: "Charging a guy with murder here was like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500!"

Last night I saw Nicholas Ray's In a Lonely Place (for the second time) at the Lightbox with the Movie Meetup.  It has one of Humphrey Bogart's scariest performances, and great dialogue by Andrew Solt.  Today they'd put Bogey in "anger management." Which reminds me, it's always seemed to me they should have something like anger management for people who make other people angry!

Saturday, March 12, 2016

History Discussion Group

"If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a village to abuse one"--Spotlight

Wednesday night I finally saw Spotlight at Canada Square. (There were only half a dozen people there!) It's a pretty intelligent look at the newspaper business.  Journalists are a bit like lawyers and soldiers:  some people would consider their work unsavoury, but society ultimately depends on them.  In her famous profile of Joe McGinnis in The New Yorker, Janet Malcolm asserted the paradox that reporters play con games to get to the truth.  Now I want to read the book it was based on.

Thursday night at the History Discussion Group we talked about mass emigration from Ireland and Ken McGoogan's Celtic Lightning.  There was a bit of confusion because we got confused with another reservation for just two people!  But we got straightened out and got the big room in back. (I'd made a reservation for ten people, and eleven showed up.) I didn't do much talking, but toward the end I sung "Danny Boy" a cappella!

Last night I saw The Revenant at Canada Square.  The photography was breathtaking!  The land was almost a character in itself.

I finished I, Claudius yesterday.  Now it's time to start getting caught up with Lapham's Quarterly:  I still haven't finished the fall issue!  John Snow mailed me a copy of Thomas Mann's short story "Little Herr Friedemann," which we'll be discussing at his next book club, so I'll have no excuse not reading it.

This afternoon one of my Movie Meetup groups had a colouring session! (Mathew rented a space near Glad Day bookstore.) I coloured a design of roses and one called "Secret Garden."

Just now I've been watching Peanuts specials on Youtube.  I like the jazzy music and the sound that indicates teachers' voices!

Wednesday, March 09, 2016

THE FORCE AWAKENS

"Women always figure out the truth.  Always!"--Han Solo

We've put both operas to bed.  Elixir finished Saturday night, Fledermaus Sunday afternoon.  At the last performance, before coming onstage in the second act I felt unusually sleepy.  Moira and our friend Pui-tak came to see it. 

Beatrice didn't announce what we're doing next year like she did at the final show last year.  On Thursday night the opera group is coming together to take turns with informal singing, which sounds fun, but that's the same night as my History Discussion Group!

I like the weather just now, with some snow still on the ground but the temperature above thawing. (I've come to see March as a favourite month of mine.) I've put away my winter coat and brought out my spring jacket.  This afternoon I visited the Davenport and Wychwood library branches to see if I could spot any books suitable for my Classic Book Club or my History Discussion Group.  I didn't find anything, but I really just wanted to get out of the house!

Since I have some free time now, I went to see J.J. Abrams' Star Wars sequel The Force Awakens tonight at Canada Square.  Lots of plot elements from the earlier movies getting put together in a new way.  It was competently made, but meh.  I think I'm too old for the fantasy adventure genre. (In middle age I've come to understand how my parents felt about this kind of entertainment--or didn't feel--back when I was young.) It was a bit sad to see Harrison Ford reprising Han Solo:  unlike Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher, he outgrew this kids' stuff.  I could have seen it in 3-D, but didn't bother.

Friday, March 04, 2016

Super Tuesday

In case you're wondering, I've proved well enough for the last week of the opera.  I even managed to bake the gingerbread for them to sell as I'd promised. (It sold out completely!) Before tonight's performance of Elixir, while putting on my makeup, as usual I put a kleenex over my peasant costume's neckline to keep it from being smudged.  Only tonight, I forgot to take it off and wore the kleenex onstage!  And the twist is, it actually improved the costume a bit.

After Super Tuesday, some Clintonites have been claiming that the Sanders campaign is finished.  They remind me of General Santa Anna in Texas Rising saying about Sam Houston's Texan army, "They're too stupid to realize they've lost the war!" (He says this after taking the Alamo but before being routed and captured at San Jacinto.)

Last night I finally finished Celtic Lightning and can now focus on finishing I, Claudius.  The battle scenes are tightly depicted, reflecting Robert Graves' own experience in World War I.  The depiction of Rome's war with Germany surely has a subtext about that conflict.  No doubt there's also a subtext about the uneasy British Empire between the world wars.

After really warm weather on Sunday, it got really cold again for the last few days.  I can't wait to be finished with my winter boots!

Our cable company is now offering a la carte channel subscriptions, so I'm now considering what we might pick up.  The CBC and BBC news channels are our highest priorities, and al-Jazeera and CNN International also sound interesting.  I'm also thinking of Turner Classic Movies.

Tuesday, March 01, 2016

Leap Day

I'm almost over my cold.  It's past its peak and is now in the final headache phase.

I'm finished with "hell week." I warned Beatrice that I might not be able to make the last week of shows, but I'm still hopeful that I can.  Sunday Moira came to see Elixir and afterward we walked home together. (The weather was nice, but today the temperature dropped sharply.)

At Thursday's opera show, I ended up putting on way too much shade and had to add a whole lot of powder to blend it.  But overall I've got pretty good at applying my own makeup.  For me the hardest part isn't being onstage but waiting in the wings.  When a task is impending it looks really big, but it doesn't seem so big once you're actually doing it!  In my spare time backstage I've been reading I, Claudius.

Moira borrowed the miniseries Texas Rising from the library, about the 1836 Texan War of Independence.  She seemed to lose interest when she found out how long it was, but I've started watching it.  It doesn't stint on brutality. (Crispin Glover, an actor who's always interested me, has a supporting role.)

At today's memoir group there were eighteen people!

I'm depressed about Hillary Clinton winning the South Carolina primary.  If she gets nominated Trump will crush her for sure! (She's the sort of "establishment" figure who'll be convenient for him to run against.) The online people who keep denouncing Bernie Sanders with talk of "free stuff" and "unicorns" remind me of Joseph's brothers saying, "Here cometh the dreamer.  Let us slay him, then we shall see what happens to his dreams!"

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Hell week

Sunday was my Reading Out Loud Meetup.  The topic was poetry, and there were a dozen people, the largest group I've ever had!  I read Sandberg's "Chicago" (in my Scots version), a children's poem "If No One Ever Marries Me," Walter Scott's "Breathes There a Man," and the poem about the Tay Bridge disaster by the World's Worst Poet William McGonagall.  Someone recited John Donne poems from memory!  If the Victory Cafe gets torn down along with Honest Ed's we'll have to find a new place, and someone suggested a room you can book at the Starbuck's near Christie & Davenport.

This is "hell week" for my opera group.  Two dress rehearsals followed by four shows, all in six days.  And I'm not completely over my cold.  I didn't have buckles for my shoes since I missed Wednesday's Elixir of Love rehearsal, so Beatrice got Gerald to give me his. (He's playing Dulcamara and his pants go down to his shoes, unlike the chorus men who are wearing knee socks.)

Monday night I wasn't up to choir practice.  Which is just as well because I had a ticket to see the cinema broadcast of the Met production of Bizet's The Pearl Fishers.  That's the opera where Jurga and Nadir were best friends until Leila came between them, but now they're best friends again, except that Jurga's become the headman of a Sri Lankan fishing village that brings in Leila as a virgin whose job is to sing calmness to the sea, while Nadir's come there in amorous pursuit of Leila, and he seduces her and there's a big storm and the village is going to execute them and Jurga's especially homicidal because of his own jealousy, but Leila gives him the pearl pendant he gave her when she hid him from a lynch mob, so Jurga sets the village on fire as a distraction so he can free the two of them in repayment of his debt, but he stays behind to take their fate onto himself.  Of course, the two highlights are in the first act:  the Jurga-Nadir duet and Nadir's aria.  It has a lot in common with Delibes' Lakme.

We need a new doorbell.  It just beeps like a truck in reverse, not nearly enough to wake you from sleep.  Monday night I forgot my house key and when I got home I rang the bell twenty times but Father was sound asleep and I had to break a window to wake him up!  Tonight he left the door unlocked for me.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Opera costumes




Scarface (shooting in mime): "Do it first, do it by yourself, and keep doing it!"

Monday was a holiday, so there was no memoir group or choir practice.  I went to the Revue and saw Howard Hawks' original Scarface (for the third time) with the Classical Movie Meetup group.  It's very entertaining, though I can see why Italian-Americans disliked their often broad depiction here. (I noticed the repeated murder-related imagery involving the letter "X.") And it's way better than Al Pacino's garish remake.  The main thing I remember from that is Pacino complaining that his wife Michelle Pfeiffer never ate--and MP is pretty skinny!

The opera costumes arrived from Malabar Tuesday morning, and I came to help move them and try mine on. (Father was out with our Metropass, so I walked there and back.) I had to finish in a hurry so the stage manager could lock the dressing rooms and return the key to the caretaker, so of course I ended up leaving my glasses inside!  But I got them back in the evening.

I've come down with a bit of a cold, so I had to miss Wednesday night's rehearsal.  I'm concentrating on getting better so I won't miss the dress rehearsals and performances next week!  I've taken to eating pomelos, which are like mega-grapefruit.  I haven't been getting out much, though I did visit my psychiatrist Thursday and had lunch with my friend Pam on Friday, both of which were planned some time earlier.

The family relations in I, Claudius are pretty complicated.  I found a Julio-Claudian family tree on Wikipedia and posted it on the Classic Book Club Meetup message board.

In one of my Facebook groups there's a thread asking what celebrities you've had a crush on.  I've posted pictures of Laura Dern and Francesca Annis.  I also started another thread by posting a picture of Princess Grace's granddaughter Charlotte Casiraghi and saying "Isn't she gorgeous?" (Yes, those pics are at the top of this post.)

Sunday, February 14, 2016

CAROL

"Just when you think things can't get worse, you run out of cigarettes"--Carol

Tuesday I borrowed Robert Graves' I, Claudius from the Palmerston library.  I'd forgotten how good it was!  In the preface he mentioned a criticism by an airman called T.E. Shaw, who I realized was actually Lawrence of Arabia! (He joined the RAF under a new name.)

Wednesday night we were rehearsing Die Fledermaus again.  This time I remembered to remove the chaise, but the other guy forgot, so I pushed it off by myself. (A bit of noise, but the show must go on!)

Thursday night at the Bloor I saw the Janis Joplin documentary Janis:  Little Girl Blue.  If I could bring one singer back from the dead, it would be her or maybe Cass Elliot.

Friday I rented the DVD of Roberto Rossellini's Stromboli.  That's the one where Rossellini got his married star Ingrid Bergman pregnant, leading to one of the great Hollywood scandals:  studio head Howard Hughes leaked her secret to get his movie some cheap publicity, the rat!  The movie's about IB marrying an Italian soldier to get out of her refugee camp and coming to live in a fishing village on a volcanic island and hating it.  It isn't as good as the later Rossellini-Bergman movies Europa 51 and Voyage to Italy:  it's one of those movies that stops instead of ending. (Luchino Visconti did better with a similar setting in La Terra Trema.) But there's clearly some talent at work, and there's always the Ingrid Bergman face that the camera adored.  I liked the scene where her husband dragged her to church after she was seen "flirting" with another man and everyone turned and looked at her.  It reminded me of when a kid arrived late at my class and school and the teacher made us all look at her!

Tonight I saw Todd Haynes' Carol at the Revue.  It's a sparely powerful, spellbinding lesbian romance, from a Patricia Highsmith novel.  Haynes used a similar 1950s setting for Far From Heaven, but I didn't care as much for that one:  for all its handsomeness, it was a movie about '50s movies.  This time his style is calm and moving, proof that less is often more.

Real brass-monkey weather today.  After finishing the movie I walked to the Dundas West station instead of waiting for the streetcar because I can't stand still in such cold weather!  I normally walk to the station from the Revue anyway.

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

History Discussion Group

"Long ago I learned that you can't save people from themselves.  Either they figure it out on their own or they don't"--Chloe Sevigny in Bloodline

Tuesday I finished A Distant Mirror and started reading Ken McGooghan's Celtic Lightning for next month's History Discussion Group.  That same day, when we were rehearsing Die Fledermaus, I totally forgot that I was one of the two people who were supposed to remove the chaise just before the "Du und Du" waltz, which brought everything to a stop.  Was my face red!

Thursday night was the History Discussion Group Meetup.  There were nine people there, but few of them had read A Distant Mirror. Yet we had a pretty good time.  I managed to sell one of them a ticket to my opera! (Moira's also bought two.  I'll have to peddle them at my Reading Out Loud Meetup too.)

Friday was my fifty-fourth birthday.  Moira bought me a nice fleece sweater and Father's going to get me a hoodie.  Puitak and Gordon brought over lunch.  We went over to Loblaw's and bought a birthday cake of the strawberry shortcake type.  The following day John and Margaret came over and Kathrine made me a vegan chocolate cake! (Two cakes are better than one.)

Saturday I finished Bloodline.  It's a terrific family melodrama.  And I just found out they're making a second season!

Right now they're having a digital film festival at Scotiabank Cinema.  I was hoping to see Mel Gibson in The Road Warrior, which I haven't seen since it first came out, but I had a headache and felt under the weather.

At the memoir group today there were seventeen people!  I've been meeting some interesting people there.  The library is closed next week due to the holiday, so I took home the can of subject cards again to remove duplicates (and contribute a few more).

Tuesday, February 02, 2016

BLOODLINE

"Don't make this about us!" "I'm making it about you"--Bloodline

We're halfway through Bloodline.  It's a complex, impressive family melodrama, and it's getting pretty dark.   Chloe Sevigny is making the most of her supporting role.  I'll want to see it again before long!

We're now rehearsing the opera on both Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

Friday night I went to the opening of an art exhibit at the Power Plant in Harbourfront. (I'd gone there the previous Friday, not realizing I was a week early!) I liked the part where the walls and ceilings were lined with butterflies.  Could have done without the loud music.

Yesterday afternoon I went to John Snow's book club, which was discussing Yves Beauchemin's Quebec novel Alley Cat.  I hadn't read the book, but John doesn't mind.  He promoted this blog, so I may get some more readers.  TIA!

At the memoir group this afternoon there was another new girl:  Maria from Yugoslavia.  It turned out she's a friend of our opera director Beatrice.  Small world!

At tonight's choir practice we started doing Verdi's Anvil Chorus and a medley of patriotic Italian songs from World War I.  Giovanni was away, so Oksana drove me to St. Clair Avenue instead.

The weather's got pretty warm, so I stopped wearing my long johns and winter boots.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Classic Book Club

"The real king of Naples is the Queen!"--That Hamilton Woman

Friday night I went to the opening of an art exhibit at the Power Plant, only to find out that it wasn't till this Friday!

Saturday night I hoped to rent the Roberto Rossellini-Ingrid Bergman movie Stromboli from 2Q Video, but it was out.  Instead I rented Alexander Korda's That Hamilton Woman, with real-life couple Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh as Lord Nelson and his mistress Lady Emma Hamilton.  Since it was made in 1941, there was plenty of WWII subtext, emphasizing the importance of fighting Napoleon/Hitler's tyranny.  Pretty fun overall. (I liked the bit in the first scene where the gendarme socked her and hurt his knuckles!)

Sunday afternoon the Classic Book Club discussed Bambi.  Only three people came, but everyone who decided not to come changed their RSVP, and that's something. (There are usually some no-shows who don't warn you.)

Sunday night we started watching the Netflix series Bloodlines, about a black sheep who returns home to his Florida family and starts causing trouble.  It looks promising.

This afternoon at the memoir slam there was a woman from Vietnam called Deanna, who was on the last helicopter out of Saigon in 1975!  Seems people are always telling her she should write down her life story.

Tonight at choir practice we started doing the Slave's Chorus from Verdi's Nabucco.  We've done it before a lot, but this is the first time we did it Paolo's way.  I managed to sing a high B flat for the first time!

The other night I dreamed that someone convinced me to agree to make a "reality TV" show, but I changed my mind when I found out they were going to film it in my room!  I also dreamed of singing William Blake's "Jerusalem" in a choir.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Reading out loud

Sunday's ROLT Meetup, "My heart's in the Highlands!" focused on Scottish writing.  I read a passage from early in Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped sequel David Balfour; Robert Burns' "The Soldier's Return"; "Greenland's Icy Mountains" by the World's Worst Poet William McGonnagall; and "The Hill" from Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology, except that I'd translated it into Scots dialect and retitled it "Th' Brae."

Five people came. (At one point over twenty people had said they were coming.) One of them was Rebecca, whom I'd met at a Meetup several years ago, who grew up in New Guinea as a missionary child.

Monday night at choir practice we started on our new program.  The first song we've started learning is "Firenze Sogna." I'm already trying to memorize it because Paolo would like all of us to be off-book.  At one point I managed to sing a high A!

At opera rehearsal Tuesday night we started staging Die Fledermaus.  I'm one of four guys who'll do consecutive dance twirls with our gals at the start of the "What a Night!" number.

Tonight I saw the DVD of Disney's movie of Bambi, which I last saw as a little kid.  They removed the deer character who got captured by the humans and released back into the wild without his old survival instincts, as well as the part where Bambi examines the corpse of a poacher killed in a gunfight. (The latter was too gruesome for the family audience.) The added scene where Bambi rescues Faline from the hounds doesn't jibe with the book.  But the choral music was nice.

I just ate a pomelo, which is a mega-grapefruit.

The History Discussion Group Meetup is in a couple of weeks so it's time for me to get serious about finishing A Distant Mirror!  If I do 15 or 20 pages a day that'll be enough.

Friday, January 15, 2016

GOODFELLAS

"What do you expect me to do, shoot him?" "Well, it wouldn't be a bad idea..."--Goodfellas

"And all I had to do every once in a while was tell Sandy I loved her"--ibid.

Sunday afternoon I saw Martin Scorcese's Goodfellas (for the umpteenth time) at the Event Screen with the Sunday Afternoon Movie Meetup.  It's one of my favourite movies!  While most gangster movies are tragedies, this one plays as a very black comedy.  This time I noticed the gangsters' long, pointy collars, like priests on speed.  They also had a "making of" documentary.

Afterward I went to the Politics Meetup.  But first I had time to kill so I went to the Chapters near Bay station and bought Margaret MacMillan's book about historical personalities and the 1985-86 issue of the complete reprint of Peanuts. (It wasn't so good by this time, but I'm still a bit curious.)

Monday afternoon we had fifteen people at the memoir slam even though Selia couldn't make it! (We discussed movie's we'd like to see someday, and school textbooks.) That evening choir practice got cancelled.  I hope it wasn't because of Paolo's boy being sick!

Wednesday night I saw the Ingrid Bergman documentary at the Bloor. (This time I was ready to be there at 6:15.) I hadn't known she had an affair with the war photographer Robert Capa!

This morning there was a robbery at the Starbuck's near St. Clair and Christie. (Nobody was hurt.) Last weekend there was a stabbing at St. Clair and Dufferin.

Today I went to the dentist and got a filling. (My regular cleaning will have to wait a couple more weeks.) I'm considering getting my teeth straightened, and Dr. Hrabalova suggested an orthodontist to visit.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Two movies

Last night I saw Quentin Tarantino's The Hateful Eight at Market Square, the western about eight mostly dangerous people stuck together in a snowstorm. (I was going to see the documentary about Ingrid Bergman, but it turned out to be at 18:15, so I didn't have time to get there.) The only woman was played by Jennifer Jason Leigh, who was born on the same day as me! (February 5, 1962.) It was pretty scary and funny.  As usual with Tarantino, there were lots of references to other movies.  J.J.L.'s character had the surname Domergue, which must be a reference to Faith Domergue, Howard Hughes girlfriend and actress in film noir Where Danger Lives and scifi curio This Island Earth.  Like Django Unchained, it had a reference to the silent classic Greed. (I'd say what it was, but that would be a spoiler.)

Have I mentioned the Biddle Family before?  When I was little, my siblings and I put on Biddle Family plays, the main rule being that everyone died in the end. (We also did fairy-tale spoofs where the good guys became bad guys and vice versa.) So in my family, a "Biddle Family ending" means an ending where a lot of characters die.   Hamlet and King Lear are Shakespearean examples of Biddle Family endings.  Well, fans of Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs won't be surprised when The Hateful Eight takes a Biddle Family turn!

Today I saw Ron Howard's In the Heart of the Sea at the Kingsway in Royal York, about the ill-fated voyage of the whaling ship the Essex, which inspired Moby-Dick.  It was a conventional but grimly enjoyable sea story.

I thought the movie was going to be at 15:00, but when I got there it turned out to be at 17:00.  Oh well, better early than late.  I had time to kill so I walked all the way to the Kipling station.  Etobicoke isn't Toronto's fanciest neighbourhood, but strange vicinities are always worth a visit when they aren't crime-ridden and dangerous.  I passed by the Arthur Murray dance studio where I spent a fortune thirteen years ago, but I didn't look in the window because I was afraid I'd see someone I knew and risk reopening a closed book!


Thursday, January 07, 2016

THE BIG SHORT

"Money isn't all." "Not when ya got it!"--Giant

"She says this job is making me unhappy." "It makes you happy to be unhappy!"--The Big Short

Sunday I saw George Stevens' Giant, for the fourth time, with the Classic Movie Meetup at the Lightbox. (They've been showing a series of movies with Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor.) It's Elizabeth Taylor at her best, with lots of epic Texan stuff and James Dean too!  Jeannie and Gaby like me because I share my popcorn with them.  Afterward we had dinner at the Queen Mother Cafe near Osgoode station.  I had a spicy dish from Laos called Long Son Gai.

Monday night was choir practice, but a lot of us couldn't come so we just did some voice exercises.  I'm still curious about what we're going to do next!

Today Moira and I went through my clothes and found some stuff that should be replaced. (I admit that clothes aren't so important to me.) Then I went to Amalia's Jewellers north of St. Clair and bought a new battery for my watch, after only six months of procrastination!  I also bought a new strap, with Mickey Mouse comic book panels printed on the inner side.

Tonight I saw The Big Short at Canada Square.  A surprisingly funny take on the sub-prime mortgage crisis from the perspective of people who profited through short-selling. (Short-sellers have a bad reputation for profiting from trends that ruin other people, but without them speculative bubbles would be bigger and get followed by bigger crashes.) With a good cast and sharp dialogue, it may end up electing Bernie Sanders president!

Friday, January 01, 2016

New Year's

Yesterday my choir performed at the Vaughan branch of the Villa Colombo.  We did a few of the songs from our Christmas program and several Italian folk songs that were new to me.  We were given the words, but only one or two had the melody.  Our next rehearsal is this Monday. (Paolo doesn't waste time!)

I met Rolando (the tailor who looks a bit like silent film actor Tully Marshall) at the Columbus Centre at 10:30, and he drove me and Isabella and Michelina up to Vaughan.  On the way back one of us noticed a driver who'd no doubt been celebrating too early swerving on the road!  We finally got back at 3:00, which played havoc with our lunch schedules.

Last night I was in bed at midnight but heard the fireworks going off, as usual.

That night my dreams were more vivid than usual. (My cipralex needs replenishing.) First I dreamed of singing karaoke in the Sackville house late at night, and preparing to sing the Sid Vicious version of "My Way," which I sometimes sing at real karaoke.  Then I dreamed of a film biography of a Victorian man reaching the top of the ladder and going out to manage a big business firm in the colonies.  Then I dreamed of being inside a huge, hollow ocean liner that contained a body of water with a sub-ship floating in it, and I recall the villain had a ship like that in the James Bond movie The Spy who Loved Me.  Then I dreamed of an alternative ending to Mad Men in which all the characters went on hikes along this New Brunswick route.  Then I dreamed of my family going home to Sackville from Moncton, except that we took a detour that led us to a non-existent historic fort on the far side of Saint John, causing me to suggest we stay overnight in that city.

Today I finally got back to baking bread, which I've left off for a while.

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

THE WIRE

"He's a piece of shit!" "Everyone's a piece of shit when they get in your way.  It goes with the territory"--The Wire

We had a pretty normal, quiet Christmas.  This year instead of turkey we had scalloped potatoes and ham.  We saved our plum pudding for when Donald came over two days ago.

Yesterday we visited the lawyer near Eglinton station and made the last arrangements to create the segregated account so I can qualify for ODSP.  Father's more concerned about my future finances than I've ever been:  he's a child of the Depression.

I've been watching the third season of The Wire on DVD.  This time the focus is on street dealing and a police officer's experiment creating a zone where dealers can operate free of police interference.

I've got up to Level 103 in Candy Crush Saga!  I'm at Level 106 in Pet Rescue Saga but I don't know if it's possible to get any further.

I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, but I've switched to a skim-milk diet.

Monday was the first really cold weather, and Monday night was our first significant snowfall, so now I'm wearing my winter coat and boots.  I like the weather just now, with snow on the ground but the temperature above freezing.

In Barbara Tuchman's history of the 14th century, I was reading about town criers in Paris yesterday.  I'll bet I'd have made a good town crier, what with my loud voice!

I recently read a sick joke online that I found rather funny: "Doctor, I--I can't feel my legs!" "Of course you can't, I took off your arms!"

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

SPARTACUS

"If there were no gods I'd still worship them; if there were no Rome I'd still dream of her"--Spartacus

Sunday afternoon I saw the cinemacast of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker ballet again, this time with Mary of the Classical Music Meetup.  The popcorn disagreed with me:  I should lay off it for a while.

Monday I went to Paolo and Catriona's open house in North York.  I bought mixed berries for the potluck at the Loblaw's near Bathurst Street and used their self-service checkout for the first time.  (Remind me to go there when it's less busy!) Getting to those places is an adventure for me.

Last night I saw Stanley Kubrick's Spartacus, for at least the fourth time, at the Lightbox in all its 70mm glory.  I'd hoped to make it a History Discussion Group event but this was the wrong time of year.

It's one of those movies that gets even better with repeat viewings.   It's more intelligent than most of the ancient epics that were fashionable in the '50s and early '60s.  Kubrick didn't have the creative control he later became accustomed to, but he keeps things moving for the whole three hours.  What a Polish face Kirk Douglas has!  It's minor flaws seem very minor. (John Dall's delivery of the line "I don't know how I shall ever be able to repay you" makes the audience laugh.

I just finished watching the last episodes of Mad Men.  When you think about it, it's a pretty depressing show.  It ended with one of the most cynical commercials of all time:  the Coke ad with young people singing "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing"!

Friday, December 18, 2015

LEGEND (spoiler)

"We honeymooned in Greece.  The Parthenon has been standing there for 2400 years.  Reggie's promise to go straight lasted two weeks)"--Legend

Last night was the choir's last concert, this time at the Columbus Centre.  My tenor voice still isn't as strong as I'd like, and I considered returning to baritone, but I decided to stay for now. (Gary from the memoir group visited us at Monday's dress rehearsal.  He's thinking of joining the choir, but he'll have to audition.  I didn't have to audition a dozen years ago.)

Since's it's Christmas time, I've been playing Candy Crush Saga and Pet Rescue Saga.  I'd forgotten how tough Level 42 in the first game can be!

Wednesday night I saw Legend at Canada Square.  It started 45 minutes later than I expected, so I went over to Indigo Books and bought Ken McGoogan's Celtic Lightning, which the History Discussion Group will be reading soon.

Legend is about the Kray twins, notorious gangsters in Swinging London. (One was insane and ended up in Broadmoor.) Tom Hardy played both roles, with a little help from special effects, and it was pretty creepy.  I saw an earlier version, The Krays, at the Showcase before that cinema closed. (In that version they were played by twins Gary and Martin Kemp from Spandau Ballet.) The main thing I remember about the earlier version is a scene where they've been drafted into the army and their drill sergeant is giving the group his "Make any trouble and you'll wish you'd never been born!" speech, then they go up to him and beat him unconscious!

This version contained a narrative cheat, but I can't talk about it without a spoiler:

*

*

*

Are you sure you want to read the spoiler?

*

*

*

Don't say you weren't warned!

*

*

*

The movie's narrated by Reg's wife, but it turns out that she died before the final scenes, so some of what she's describing is things she didn't live to see!

Monday, December 14, 2015

TRUMBO

"Mac, have you ever been in love?" "No, I've been a bartender all me life"--My Darling Clementine

Thursday night the choir did a concert for the old folk at Villa Colombo.  An old lady got up and started dancing so I danced with her! (We were singing an Italian song that I didn't know anyway.) The following night we did a concert at the Ashbury United Church.  I baked gingerbread for them to sell.

Saturday night we saw John Ford's My Darling Clementine, which Moira got from the library. (Can't remember how often I've seen it.) The O.K. Corrall story has been filmed many times, but never better than here.  Henry Fonda had a great square dancing scene!

Yesterday was the Reading Out Loud Meetup.  Our topic was children's writing, as usual for December.  I read a passage from L.M. Montgomery's Emily of New Moon where she met her relatives after her father's death, then another where she sent her poem to a newspaper, not realizing you mustn't write on both sides of the page.  I also read the poem "Harp Song of the Dane Women" from Kipling's Puck of Pook's Hill, and A.A. Milne's poem "King John's Christmas," which begins: "King John was not a good man.  He had his little ways..." That's a great British expression, "He had his little ways"! Bill and Hillary Clinton have their little ways too!

Last night I saw the biopic Trumbo at the Varsity.  It was pretty good:  Bryan Cranston is one of my favourite actors.  And Louis C.K. had a good role as fellow screenwriter Hurd Hatfield.  But I disagree with Trumbo's final message that McCarthyism had no heroes or villains, just victims.  The Titanic was something with just victims.  In this case, it seems to me that Dashiell Hammett was definitely a hero and Ronald Reagan definitely a villain (both as Screen Actors Guild president and later as president).

It's unusually warm today.  I'll get one last chance to wear my autumn jacket before it gets cold!

Thursday, December 10, 2015

New books

"Of late, however, although the transition had been so gradual his audience had scarcely noticed, his interests had moved in a new direction, toward magical, arcane matters; and his fortnightly lectures in the dining hall--the sanatorium's main attraction, the pride of its brochure--which were always delivered from behind a cloth-covered table in an exotic, drawling accent, to an immobile audience of Berghof residents and for which he always wore a frock coat and sandals, no longer dealt with masked forms of love in action or the transformation of illness back into conscious emotion, but with the abstruse oddities of hypnotism and somnambulism, the phenomena of telepathy, prophetic dreams, and second sight, the wonders of hysteria; and as he discussed these topics, philosophic horizons expanded until suddenly his audience beheld great riddles shimmering before their eyes, riddles about the relationship between matter and the psyche, indeed, the very riddle of life itself, which so it appeared, might be more easily approached along very uncanny paths, the paths of illness, than by the direct road of health"--The Magic Mountain

On Youtube, in addition to Spitting Image, I've started watching  Longstreet, a 1971 single-season TV show with James Franciscus as a blind detective(!). I remember seeing the pilot at the time, in which his wife was killed by a bomb meant for him and he was left blind.  There was this really sad moment where he got out of his hospital bed and made a scene, his dead eyes bandaged.  Bruce Lee turns up as a martial arts teacher.  I think there's an episode where a bad guy attacks him and he turns out the lights.  Even the less popular shows from that time seem more interesting than most of today's Big Three network stuff!

With The Magic Mountain finished, I've started some new books.  One is Barbara Tuchman's 14th century history A Distant Mirror for the History Discussion Group.  Another is Felix Salten's Bambi for the Classic Book Club. (It's a lot shorter, and I should finish it pretty quick.) And I've started the fourth and last volume of Shigeru Mizuki's manga history of Shouwa Japan-cum-personal memoir, focusing on the period between 1953 and 1989.

Tonight the Nonfiction Book Club met at Jack Astor's to discuss what we're reading just now.  I brought Tuchman and the manga and that gave me enough to talk about.

The internet signal was off for most of today.  We even had trouble with the cable TV connection!  While waiting for it to come back, I finished translating the poem "Desiderata" into Japanese. (I've already translated it into Scots, French and Chinese.)

Monday, December 07, 2015

Classic Book Club

"Time--not the sort that train station clocks measure with a large hand that jerks forward every five minutes, bur more like the time of a very small watch whose hands move without our being able to notice, or the time grass keeps as it grows without our eyes' catching its secret growth, until the day comes when the fact in undeniable--time a line composed of elastic turning points (and here the late, ill-fated Naphtha would presumably have asked how purely elastic points can ever begin to form a line), time, then, had continued to bring forth changes in its furtive, unobservable, secret, and yet bustling way"--The Magic Mountain

Tuesday night was the last opera rehearsal before the Christmas break.  I have most of my lines memorized.

Wednesday night I saw Brooklyn.  It was pretty good:  a handsome production nicely acted.  In the middle the projection broke down and we had to wait several minutes before it started again.  I took out my book to start reading it and that brought back the movie. (Seems to work every time!)

I had to cancel the December History Discussion Group event focusing on the Roaring '20s and the Bill Bryson book One Summer.  Nobody else could come, but maybe I'll reschedule it next year.

Thursday night I missed choir practice because I went to the wrong place!  We performed in a Friday night concert at the St. Clare church near Dufferin Street, to raise money for Syrian refugees.  Then we did a mass at Villa Colombo this morning.

Friday night I finally finished The Magic Mountain, in time for the Classic Book Club this afternoon.  Nine people came, and to my surprise most of them had finished The Magic Mountain.  Someone suggested that much of the story was in Hans Castorp's head, and if I reread it again I'll probably see it in a very different way!

On Spitting Image I heard the line "I don't go to the loo.  I'm the Queen!" When Elizabeth II visited my alma mater Mt. Allison University thirty years ago, I overheard someone saying that when the Queen visits a place and uses a toilet seat, they have to destroy it afterward.

Friday, December 04, 2015

More people I don't envy

"Ever since the eccentric conclusion to his relationship with a certain personality and all the changes that conclusion had set into motion in the sanatorium; ever since Clavdia Chauchat's renewed departure from the society of those up here, including a respectful, considered farewell to her master's surviving "brother" exchanged beneath the shadow cast by the tragedy of a great failure--ever since that turning point, it had seemed to the young man as if there were something uncanny about the world and life, as if there were something peculiar, something increasingly askew and disquieting about it, as if a demon had seized power, an evil and crazed demon, who had long exercised considerable influence, but now declared his lordship with such unrestrained cantor that he could install in you secret terrors, even prompt you to think of fleeing.  The demon's name was Stupor"--The Magic Mountain

Here are some more people I don't envy:

Parents who have lost a child:  I can't imagine how traumatic that can be!  We forget how often that used to happen:  it happened to both my paternal and maternal grandparents. (The myth of Niobe shows that the Greeks understood the pain of parental bereavement.)

Blind and lame people:  For me, the worst thing about having such a handicap would be depending on other people. (Those who manage to leave fairly independent lives are greatly to be admired.)

Farmers:  Their lives are closer to nature, but their livelihood depends on the whims of weather, and throughout history they've tended to be in debt. (And those tractors are noisy!) But I do like gardening.

Orphans:  Parents are something most children take for granted, and people who've grown up with parents can't imagine what it's like to grow up without them.

Undertakers:  They deal with people at their most traumatized, which can take a huge emotional toll.  I can well believe that some of them become manipulative hawkers of unnecessary items.

Models:  That can't be a healthy way to live.

Refugees:  As a refugee, you leave behind your old life and can't be sure of finding a new one.  Many refugees end up in an excruciating limbo that can produce hardened terrorists.

Young people:  Older people often wax nostalgic about youth, forgetting how severe its difficulties can feel.

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

Opera fundraiser

"It is not by accident, please note, that we have chosen to associate with minds like those of Messrs. Naphtha and Settembrini, instead of surrounding ourselves with vague Peeperkorns--which leads us, in fact, to a comparison that in many respects and particularly in regard to stature can only be resolved in favour of this late arrival, just as it was resolved in Hans Castorp's own mind as he lay on his balcony and admitted that those two hyperarticulate mentors, tugging at both sides of his soul, simply shrank beside Pieter Peeperkorn, until he was inclined to call them the same name the Dutchman had called him in a fit of drunken royal banter--"little chatterboxes"--and decided it was a piece of good luck that hermetic pedagogy had also brought him into contact with such a manifest personality"--The Magic Mountain

Last Thursday was the opera fundraiser.  This year it took place at the Bickford Centre this year, with a $10 minimum admission for the first time. I baked gingerbread for it the night before. (Most of it I kept to eat at home, and we added icing!) Afterward there was a big variety of cookies and stuff for the crowd.  My favourite was the marble loaf, and the mince tarts were pretty good too.  Afterward I took home a lot of leftovers once more.

My choir octet had a rehearsal on Saturday morning for a change. (I like having a reason to get up earlier.) I brought over those leftovers and they had a few.

Sunday afternoon I went to John Snow's book club where we discussed Emile Zola's Germinal.  I hadn't read the book but John doesn't mind.  That evening I saw the Noam Chomsky documentary Requiem for the American Dream at the Bloor with the Sunday Movie Meetup.  I was familiar with his arguments but enjoyed it anyway. (I saw the Chomsky documentary Manufacturing Consent and the Toronto Film Festival over 20 years ago, and greatly enjoyed it!)

I've started a new Facebook game called Klondike.  It reminds me of Frontierville, which I greatly enjoyed five years ago.  I'm losing interest in Tribez and Castlez and may quit that game soon.

Tonight the choir did a rehearsal at that renaissance church near St. Clair & Dufferin.  I made a commitment to bake more gingerbread for them!

Last night I dreamed of being so depressed that I returned early from a vacation because I hadn't felt like doing anything!  I also dreamed of fleeing a deadly posse outside Moncton with Charlotte and Miranda from Sex & the City. (Why would I dream about them?  I've hardly ever watched the show!)

Sunday, November 29, 2015

My latest dream

"His hands, moreover, were rather broad, but ended in long tapering fingernails; and he used them when he spoke (and he spoke in an almost incessant stream, although Hans Castorp could not quite comprehend what was said) in a series of exquisite gestures that reviewed his listeners' interest--the subtly nuanced, well-chosen, precise, tidy, cultured gestures of an orchestra conductor--a forefinger bent to form a circle with a thumb or a palm held out wide, but with tapering nails, to caution, to subdue, to demand attention, only to disappoint his now smiling, attentive listeners with one of his very robustly prepared, but incomprehensible phrases; or rather, he did not so much disappoint people as transform smiles into looks of delighted amazement, because the robustness, subtlety, and significance of the preparation largely compensated, even after the fact, for what he failed to say and produced a satisfying, amusing, and enriching effect all its own"--The Magic Mountain

"Are you Prince Philip?" "Oh, bugger off, you tit!" "I knew it was him!"--Spitting Image

Last night I dreamed I was visiting London to accompany a group of schoolgirls led by a Dickensian schoolmarm, then getting separated from them on the subway:  the doors closed on me before I could board the train they were already on.  Then I went to street level and wondered where to find them, then I met some French schoolgirls who knew where they were because they'd heard it through the grapevine. (I referred to my own schoolgirls as "the little monkeys," and they knew what my reference meant!) I also said that it was exactly ten years since I'd arrived in London to research my Ph.D. thesis, though it's actually over twenty.  I was admitting that the thesis was a dead end for me and wished I could get a job as a librarian in a place that specialized in history books!

Later I dreamed that I was trying to write this dream down in a book that was already largely full, in the Mount Allison University physics building where Father used to have an office, wearing a blanket in a snowstorm and having to leave our Sackville house because the federal government was forcing brownouts to reduce global emissions,. (I also dreamed of explaining what happened in Room 101 in Nineteen Eighty-Four.)

Thursday, November 26, 2015

THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN

I'm two-thirds of the way through The Magic Mountain.  It's an incredible book, kind of an existential adventure story.  We had our first snow on Tuesday, and that was the time when I read the chapter "Snow," a vivid account of the hero skiing and getting lost in a blizzard.

Thomas Mann isn't afraid of long sentences: "He ridiculed the philanthropist's reluctance to shed blood, his reverence for life, claimed that such a reverence for life belonged to only the most banal rubbers-and-umbrellas bourgeois periods, but that the moment history took a more passionate turn, the moment a single idea, something that transcended mere 'security,' was at work, something suprapersonal, something greater than the individual--and since that alone was a state worthy of mankind, it was, on a higher plane, the normal state of affairs--at that moment, then individual life would always be sacrificed without further ado to that higher idea, and not only that, but individuals would also unhesitatingly and gladly risk their own lives for it."

Here's a passage from the "Snow" chapter: "Had his mind been less muddled, he would have had to admit that in terms of getting back home this was perhaps the worst thing he could have done; and indeed he told himself as much after he had taken a few sips, which produced an immediate effect, much the same effect as that caused by Kulmbach beer his first evening up here, when with a lot of loose, disreputable talk about fish sauces and the like he had offended Settembrini--Herr Lodovico, the pedagogue, who could keep madmen from letting themselves go, return them to reason with just a glance, and whose melodious little horn Hans Castorp now heard in the air around him, the signal that his oratorical teacher was now approaching at a forced march to free his troublesome pupil, life's problem child, from his mad situation and lead him home.  Which was pure nonsense of course, it was the Kulmbach beer he had drunk by mistake that made him think that.  Because firstly, Herr Settembrini did not have a little horn, but only his barrel organ, which had a folding leg so he could set it up on the cobblestones and cast a humanistic eye up at the houses as it played its familiar songs; and secondly, he knew nothing about what was going on, since he no longer lived at Berghof Sanatorium, but at Lukacek's, in his little garret with a water carafe, just above Naphtha's silken cell--and had no such right to do so on Mardi Gras night, when Hans Castorp had found himself in a position equally as mad and difficult, when he had given son crayon, his pencil, Pribislav Hippe's pencil, back to the ailing Clavdia Chachat."

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Cold weather!

Thursday night I went on Betty Anne's art walk.  Our first stop was the store Elephant in the Attic, which sells a lot of miniature art prints.  I noticed some illustrations from the Random House edition of Alice in Wonderland which we had when I was young.  There's only one John Tenneil, but these had some evocative colours.

Then I went to the Revue and saw the Rue Morgue presentation of the British Vincent Price thriller Scream and Scream Again. (Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing also appear in it!) The plot was about a psycho-killer who was actually a cyborg or something.  It was introduced by his daughter Victoria, who gave an interesting talk about his singular joie de vivre.

I've been looking at songs Gary's group might sing.  There's "Day-O," "This Land Is Your Land," "Comedy Tonight," "Let It Be," "Hey Jude," "I's the B'y That Builds the Boat."

Well, the cold weather's arrived.  Time to start wearing my long johns again.  Today there were a few snow flurries!  I've started wearing my Russian-style furry hat. (Last week I dreamed of visiting Russia:  not of being there, but planning the journey.  And I've never been interested in going there before.  It must be from seeing the Russian dancers in Patton.)

Tonight I went to the Politics Meetup.  We'd planned to talk about the impending American election, but the topic was changed to terrorism because of the Paris attack.  I should learn to speak up more because the others tend to dominate the conversation too much.

Just saw an episode of Spitting Image with a fall-down hilarious sketch:  the cheesiest Wind in the Willows puppet show you can imagine, with visible hands and everything.  Some people have suggested reviving the show, but it was of its time:  people were angrier back then.  Today's viewers seem older and more indifferent.  Aside from the royals, one of the only characters still around is Robert Mugabe! (No doubt there'd be more sketches set in heaven.)

Thursday, November 19, 2015

SPITTING IMAGE

Monday at the memoir slam my pen kept acting up so my handwriting looked like a little kid's!  There's a guy in the group who I thought was called Hugo but it turned out he spells his name Huggho!  Gary brought his keyboard and afterward I tried playing it as an audition for his group, but I was unused to it.  He'll come over Friday and I'll try again. (Yesterday I went to Gladstone library and found some albums with promising song scores.)

Monday night I lugged all my old scores to the choir so they can file them all. (I've accumulated quite a few over a decade!) But it turned out that they aren't collecting them till next week, so I had to take them back home, and I'll be toting them there again.

At opera practice Tuesday we were learning the Fledermaus chorus parts, which are smaller than in Elixir. (Once again, I'm benefiting from having done it before.)

Today was apparently the last warm day of the fall, so I finished moving those patio tiles and dug a ditch around the expanded garden.  There are a couple of offshoots from the cherry tree we cut down, which I should replant.

Anyone remember Spitting Image, the British satirical puppet show from the 1980s and early '90s?  I've been watching the first episodes on Youtube.  So far it's pretty thin:  Reagan and Thatcher just don't seem funny when I look at the long-term harm they did. (The best thing in it was always the songs. I remember their parody of U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," which had the line "You can change the world, but you can't change the world"!)

I've started applying myself with The Magic Mountain.  If I keep it up, I'll actually finish in time for the book club event!

Sunday, November 15, 2015

One sentence!

"For Hans Castorp understood that this living body--with its mysterious symmetry of limbs, nourished by blood through a network of nerves, veins, arteries, capillaries, all oozing lymph; with its scaffold of bones, some of them tubes filled with marrow, some like blades, some like bulbs, some torqued vertebrae, but all originating in a gelatinous base that with the help of calcium salts and lime had grown firm enough to support the rest; with its joints made of tendons, cartilage, and slippery, well-oiled balls and sockets; with its more than two hundred muscles; with its central system of organs for nutrition and respiration, for registering and transmitting stimuli; with its protective membranes, serous cavities, and glands pumping secretions; with its complicated interior, a network of pipes and crevices, including openings onto the world outside--understood that this self was a living entity of a higher order, far removed from those simple organisms that breathed, fed, even thought, with just the surface of their bodies, that it was constructed, rather, out of a myriad of small organized units, which all shared a common origin, but had multiplied by constantly dividing, had adapted and combined for various functions, and had then separated to develop on their own and germinated new forms that were both the prerequisite and the effect of its growth"--The Magic Mountain

"The German army hasn't undertaken a winter offensive since Frederick the Great.  That's why I expect them to do exactly that!"--Patton

Thursday I had lunch with Pam at Butler's Pantry in Mirvish Village. (She's a mycobacteriologist, so she's read The Magic Mountain.) Afterward I went to The Beguiling, also in Mirvish Village, and bought the fourth and last volume of Shigeru Mizuki's history-memoir of Japan under Hirohito, covering 1953 to 1989.  I'm looking forward to it, but I don't dare start it till I've finished The Magic Mountain!

Yesterday I finished digging up the potatoes.  Now I can focus on expanding the garden's area. (Lucky it's supposed to get warm again next week!)

Saw Franklin J. Schaffner's Patton on Netflix tonight (for at least the third time). George C. Scott is the movie!  Patton was a madman, but that's what a nation sometimes needs.  Like India needed Gandhi, a madman for peace.

I've finally quit the online game Forge of Empires.  I'd got all the way into the modern era, but it was taking too much of my life.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

SUFFRAGETTE

"'Well roared, lion,' Hans Castorp could not help thinking, as he usually did when Herr Settembrini uttered something pedagogic"--The Magic Mountain

Thursday my History Discussion Group met at Schnitzel Hub near St. Clair station. (I had goulash soup, large size.) Five people turned up, and we discussed Samuel Pepys' diary.  I've been so busy reading other stuff that I only had time to glance at a few highlights beforehand.  But that didn't matter, it was a good discussion.

Sunday was Reading Out Loud, and the topic was Canadian writing. (I titled the event "The Great White North"!) I read "L'Envoi.  The Train to Mariposa" from Leacock's Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town and the chapter in Anne of Green Gables where she tried to walk on a rooftop and ended up with a broken ankle.

This afternoon at choir practice, instead of waiting while Paolo spent time on the basses, I helped Paolo's wife Katrina assemble copies of the "O Holy Night" score into booklet format for our binders.

I've almost finished digging up the garden, but there's still one row left.  I also have quite a few patio tiles to move to expand our growing area.

This evening I saw Suffragette with the History Discussion Group at the Varsity.  It was vividly made but a bit conventional. (When the laundry supervisor put his hands on Carey Mulligan I thought, "It's time for her to attack him with her hot iron," and was not disappointed.) At least they didn't have her stand on a table with a sign saying "Votes for women" and cause all the laundry machines to stop, like Sally Field in Norma Rae (another rather conventional movie).


Sunday, November 08, 2015

People I don't envy

For no reason in particular I decided to make a list of people I don't envy.

Poor people.  It's easy to be judgemental and forget their daily struggles and humiliations.

Soldiers.  Even the most successful ones have seen some ugly shit.  And they serve their country even when their government makes them do the wrong thing.

Americans.  The U.S.A. often seems a more exciting, glamorous place than Canada.  And yet Americans have a tendency to live in fear even when they don't have to!

Miners.  Mining is one thing I could never do. (I couldn't stand being in a submarine either.)

First Nations.  When the Europeans came along they basically got run over by a truck.  Possibly the worst thing we did to them was declaring them human dinosaurs a century ago.

People in prisons.  Not just the prisoners, but the people who work there.

People in the old days.  We often take for granted aspects of modern living like dentistry and flush toilets.

Royalty.  True, their lives are comfortable, but a million eyes are always on them, waiting for them to make any mistake.  Kings once had both power and responsibility; now they largely only have the responsibility that comes from symbolizing your nation.

People in the sex trade.  Our laws here (as with drugs) often have the effect of punishing the victims.

North Koreans.  The more I hear about that country, the better Canada looks.

Rock stars.  I can't imagine enjoying making music so much that I'd be willing to lose my hearing prematurely. (That goes for their roadies too!)

Suburbanites.  I lived in Mississauga for a year when I was young.

Illiterates.  A whole world is closed to them.

Thursday, November 05, 2015

Indian summer

It's been warm this week, so I'm bringing in more potatoes.  I've been wearing some old slippers in the garden, but yesterday when I came in I forgot to put my new ones back on, so I tracked dirt all over the house!  Was my face red! (That's the title of a feature in Young Miss magazine where girls wrote in and described their most embarrassing experiences.)

Thursday I saw a Halloween double bill at the Revue:  Dracula's Daughter and She Wolf of London (which was actually set in the English countryside!) I splurged and bought a Revue membership.

Saturday afternoon I saw the Met production of Wagner's Tannhauser at the Yonge & Eglinton.  I recognized the melody from the chorus early in the second act and I've been wondering where I heard it before.

Sunday night I went to the Politics Meetup where we discussed the election.  I brought a printout of my previous post showing how it would have gone with my preferred system of proportional representation.  Afterward I realized I'd made a slight error:  Manitoba and Saskatchewan should have nine Category A seats instead of ten!

At Monday night's choir practice someone brought a really good cake!  I imagine we'll be way better in the spring when we've had enough time to come together completely.

This afternoon I went to an extra choir rehearsal at Paolo's United Church on Bathurst north of Lawrence.  Too bad that I got off the Bathurst bus too early and had to wait for the next one, and was rather late! (Someone brought doughnuts.) Oksana gave me a lift home.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Post-election analysis

"I'll sit here for a while yet and smoke my cigar, just as usual.  It tastes terrible, but I know it's good and that will have to suffice for me today"--The Magic Mountain

The election disappointed me.  I was hoping that the Liberals and NDP would both fall short of a majority, and because (plausibly) neither party would accept the other as Prime Minister they'd form a coalition with the Greens and make Elizabeth May P.M. (Sort of like the coalition in that Danish show Borgen.)

I analyzed the results and determined what would have happened with the system of proportional representation I'd prefer.  Under this system, about 70% of the seats would be Category A, chosen the same way they are now; 25% Category B, allotted so that A and B together would match the proportion of the popular vote*; 5% Category C, which would normally go the party that got the highest popular vote overall, except in provinces where one party's A seats alone were greater than its proportional share of A and B seats, in which case the C seats would go to the other parties to fill out their seat shortfall*. 

I gave Ontario 4 C seats, Quebec 3, B.C. and Alberta 2 each, and every other province 1; and for B seats each province got the smallest number not smaller than one quarter of their non-C seats.  The territories would be unchanged, with one seat in the A category.

(*=or as close as possible)

Here's the actual results under "first past the post":

Province  Liberal  Conservative  NDP  Green  Bloc Quebecois
Nfld           7
PEI            4
NS           11
NB          10
PQ          40           12                   16                  10
Ont         80           33                     8
Man          7             5                     2
Sask          1           10                     3
Alta           4           29                     1
BC          17           10                    14        1
Terrs         3
________________________________________
Total      184           99                   44        1       10


Now here's the results under my system:  first the A seats, followed by the sum of B and C in brackets.

Province  Liberal  Conservative  NDP  Green  Bloc Quebecois
Nfld         4 (1)          (1)                   (1)
PEI          2 (1)          (1)
NS           7                (2)                   (2)
NB           6                (2)                   (2)
PQ          28 (3)       9 (3)              12 (7)        (2)      7 (7)
Ont         57          24 (17)              6 (13)       (4)
Man         5 (2)        4 (1)               1 (1)
Sask         1 (3)        7                    2 (1)
Alta          3 (7)      20                    1 (3)
BC          12 (4)       7 (5)             10 (1)       1 (2)
Te4rs         3
_______________________________________________
Total      128 (21)   71 (32)        32 (31)      1 (8)     7 (7)
Overall     149          103               63              9           14

The Liberals would have two-thirds of the seats in the Maritimes and Newfoundland, instead of every single one; two-fifths of the Quebec seats, instead of over half; and just under half the Ontario seats, instead of almost two-thirds.

I can dream, can't I?