Oh, the gray rainy icky cold weather. Not so fun. Teaching, not so great when discussion doesn't happen. I mean, we're talking about censorship, racial exploitation, stereotypes. Actual topics people have opinions about. Except, apparently, my students. Anyway, that was a let down, though I remained in a good mood all day. Then, there was class: disucssing the plot of Tristan, which was kind of cool, when we got down to details, and one sentence verb in particular which shifts the meaning of the sentence from stealing Isolde away from a man to Isolde stealing Tristan away from a man. Pretty cool. Except for the point where the professor wouldn't accept "voice of reason" as a characterization, and then called it a "voice of rationality." That's just stupid (Rebecca thought my overtly critical reaction was hilarious). Then British music, which was slow and full of the readings I didn't actually do. And then Bach, which was really really slow, and chronically unclear what is important or how it all relates and repetitive. I have a feeling everything I learn in that class will come from me. Then I saw Stephen in the music library for the first time since returning, which was awesome (he knows everyone in the Bach class, apparently). And then I enjoyed a fairly slow evening of work, Work Holiday discussing, light bulb changing, so on and so on.
1/16/05- **
Martin Luther King Day. That man died so that we could have a day off school, so be grateful. I enjoyed sleeping today, and feeling a bit better appetite-wise. And I did a lot of work. And then I went to see Walk the Line (**). This follow up to last year's vastly superior Ray feels oddly substanceless and disengaged. The music is good, and the fact the actors do their own singing is quite amazing, but I can't help feeling like this is a stunt, rather than an integrated part of the movie. For that matter, the concert scenes are well-filmed, stylish, with a good sense of the electric feel of the age. But what happens off stage should be the bulk of the drama, and here it pales in comparison to the vitality and chemistry. While it seems to go through the motions of necessary biopic elements rather half-heartedly, it comes up with nothing fresh to offer in their place. The film opens well with pulsing music and Johnny Cash lost in thought, then flashbacks for the movie to the tragic loss of his brother. The ensuing grief isn't shown on screen. Brother Jack dies, and we flash forward a number of years. What this is supposed to do is prevent closure, I reckon, but all that happens is we're shifted away from the emotional lynchpin of the story, given no context into which the grief is supposed to come but doesn't. Similar scenes are oddly displaced as well: we know Johnny has a drug addiction, but no one seems to do anything, and at no point does he really go through recovery (except one sweaty night right at the end). The sum of all this is that these feel like subplots, with no ongoing plot to connect them, engage with, or give us a reason to stay. The one plot element which works winningly is the love story, in part from the breezy, enjoyable nature, the playing off of the concerts, and Reese Witherspoon's delightfull bright, subtle performance. As a woman thrust into the spotlight almost permanently, she finds a careful way to show and mask simultaneously thoughts rippling below the surface without breaking too much. It's not a case of a good woman compelling Johnny to stick around, but rather the audience. Then afterwards, a long long Work Holiday meeting. We're doing work! We're throwing a beach party! I made a sign! And clever punny subtitles with Megan for all the jobs! Then, I did more work.
1/15/05- ***
Road trip, or rather day trip. Claire, Natalie, Christina, John, and I piled into a car and drove off to Clare, Michigan for Claire's birthday. The drive had good music of various sorts and an episode of This American Life. I did some reading, part of a crossword I finished later on tonight (silent E theme: eg. What you find in a prison library: PROSEANDCONS), and chatted with the fine company. In Clare, we had brunch at the local hotel, which was decent, and looked at a lot of shops. The hig points were the boot/hunter gear/biker gear/fabric store (I swear!) and the antique store with WWI-era postcards of cute love scenes with text like "I find you most agreeable" or "Between Love and Duty!" Very excellent, if a little long after the 5th or 6th store. The evening was spent doing stuff like cleaning the bathroom and doing work which I ought to have done earlier. But it's good to get out every now and then, even if it's to small cutesy Irish/Amish Michigan towns.
11:39 PM
