Flickering I roam
Feb. 17th, 2019 02:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12First up, nominations have now opened for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
waybackexchange, so if you're thinking of participating, you have until 20th February to get your nominations in. I've already used up all my nomination slots, but if anyone has any free, please do drop me a comment here (or a DM) as I have at least one other fandom I'd love to get nominated.
ladytharen has created a great new comm for Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows duology, so if you're interested, please do think about joining!
Join Here! | Community Profile
My reading has slowed a lot in February, but at least the quality has picked up somewhat from last week. I started the week with a bit of nonfiction — Nicholas Brown's A History of Canberra. Canberra is my hometown. I wasn't born there, but moved there with my parents when I was three, stayed until I was eighteen, and then returned for one year to work as a subeditor on the local paper when I was twenty-two. Apart from a flying visit in 2008 to say goodbye to friends before leaving for Cambridge, I have not returned. Canberra and I have a ... complicated relationship. My childhood there was very happy, and I loved the city — bland, planned suburbia, public service utopia, empty streets, wide open skies, dry bushland with kangaroos encroaching on the suburbs and all. The things that others found suffocating — everyone knowing everyone, middle class conformity, the sense that life and excitement was happening elsewhere, the fact that you couldn't walk into a shop without bumping into at least two people from your school, someone who'd been your mum's colleague, and three people who recognised your dad from TV — made me feel seen and known, and gave me a sense of place. Leaving wrenched something out of me and was largely responsible for my depression, and returning made it worse.
So reading this history was a somewhat disorienting experience. I'm sure I seriously annoyed Matthias, because every ten seconds I was exclaiming things like, 'oh, I knew that local MP — her kids were at school with me!' 'oh, that Chief Minister got into a feud with my mother and refused to go on air and do interviews for local radio if Mum was the presenter,' 'oh, that vice-chancellor of ANU had two sons at my school,' and 'oh, this guy who's being described as "the only billionaire in Canberra" built an absolute monstrosity of a house — more like a bunker-like compound — over the road from our place when I was eight or nine'. Canberra is a very, very small town, especially if you grew up in that weird upper-middle class nexus of public servants, political and local journalists, university lecturers, and politicians that I did. But at the same time there was so much in the city's history that I had not known, because town planning — particularly Canberra's town planning — is not really a subject that's taught in Australian schools. It struck me really forcefully what an odd kind of experiment the city was: designed to be a sort of public service fishbowl, its residents not individuals in their own right, but rather the disinterested representatives of the nation. I had not known, for example, that the territory did not get its own MP until relatively late, and even then the MP was not allowed to vote on national matters, only local Canberra issues — the idea being that with such a high proportion of public servants, Canberra was too biased and involved in national politics to be allowed input. I had not realised that the weird local school system — no standardised tests, just continuous assessment set by each individual school (with an average of the student's grades from the final two years of school determining the grade out of 100 they would receive and use to apply to university) — had been created as an attempt to deal with the comparably high number of Canberran students entering university, and was meant to provide a more rigorous education that would better prepare students for university than a single, standardised test. I had not realised the territory had had no local/state government until the late 1980s, and even then it had been against the express wishes of Canberran voters as expressed in a referendum on the issue — and the voting system they'd been left with resulted in no clear party majority, but rather MLAs from two separate groups who each campaigned on a platform to abolish local/state government! (When I spoke to my mother about this — as we'd moved to Canberra just around the time this all went down — she told me the reason Canberrans had voted against this was because prior to self-government, the federal government had paid for everything: childcare was free, parking was free, and housing was controlled by the federal government. The people voted against self-government because they knew it would bring all that to an end.)
This Canberran rambling probably interests no one but me, so apologies for that long, nerdy, self-indulgent digression. Other than this book, the only thing I've been reading this week is Samantha Shannon's incredible epic fantasy The Priory of the Orange Tree, which isn't supposed to be published yet, but my preorder shipped early, and as a result I have it in my hands. It's an absolute behemoth of a book, and although I read fast, I don't read that fast, so I've not finished it yet. But it's been wonderful to sit in the sunshine in my wing chair and dive into Shannon's lovely, richly imagined new world. I'm sure I'll have more to say when I'm finished.
Matthias and I have been working our way through Luther, which is currently all on Netflix (at least in the UK), and Russian Doll. We've finished the latter, and are up to the fifth (and final) season of the former. It's interesting to watch them both side by side, because Luther is so much an exploration of (toxic) masculinity — in a cartoonish, over-the-top way, perhaps — and Russian Doll is a such a resolute exploration of women's experiences that they make a really interesting contrast, although of course they're both completely different genres.
I really feel that Luther only works because of Idris Elba's incredible charisma and presence, and the incredible chemistry he and Ruth Wilson have together. In the hands of any other actor, the character of Luther would be repellant — and indeed in spite of all the occasional nods the show makes towards stressing that doing police work by the book, following procedure and so on is necessary — what the show really implies is that there are some criminals so abhorrent, some crimes so heinous that regular enforcement of the law is no longer possible. In other words, Luther is Batman, minus the inherited wealth and fancy gadgets. As I say, I adore Idris Elba in the role, and he and Ruth Wilson are a beautiful disaster together, and the grimy London setting and Massive Attack song in the credits are just icing on the cake, but the kind of underlying theme is somewhat disquieting.
Russian Doll is wonderful on almost every level. Natasha Lyonne is marvellous, the intricate time loops with slight, jarring differences, the note perfect rendering of both what it's like to be a woman in your mid-thirties, and (as far as I can tell) a certain kind of New York milieu, the secondary characters, the sountrack and so on are fantastic. My only small quibble would be with the ending, the final message, as it were. To me, all that build-up, all the structure and intricate carpentry underpinning and supporting it, don't pay off. 'Be empathetic and form meaningful connections' is obviously crucial to our existence as human beings, but it doesn't feel, to me, profound enough to justify all that had come before.
A show which I can't believe I'd not heard of, and which I binge watched yesterday afternoon, was the sparkling, sharp, warm-hearted Derry Girls, an absolutely delightful comedy about the trials and tribulations of teenage girls in the early 1990s, set against the backdrop of the final years of the Troubles. It has such a fabulous sense of place, and is written with the kind of gentle mockery and earnestness that can only come from a writer who shares the characters' background and experiences. The soundtrack is simply perfect. The only sour note is a particular recurring 'joke' which I found to be somewhat homophobic — not enough to mar my enjoyment, but which may provoke a stronger reaction in other viewers, so if you were thinking of trying this show on my recommendation and feel this may be something that gives you pause, drop me a comment or DM and I'll elaborate, and you can make up your own mind.
Matthias and I tried out our favourite wine/craft beer bar's latest venture: a cafe/bar open all day and evening, serving its own food (as opposed to the bar's original iteration, which just has a series of food trucks serving food outside for patrons). We had a great brunch, and, as an added bonus, they're serving coffee brewed from beans provided by my favourite Berlin coffee roastery!
I spent the morning bathed in sunshine, reading Priory, but did take advantage of the warm weather to go on a quick walk to and from Grantchester. Spring is well and truly in the air, and I feel restored and refreshed.
waybackexchange, so if you're thinking of participating, you have until 20th February to get your nominations in. I've already used up all my nomination slots, but if anyone has any free, please do drop me a comment here (or a DM) as I have at least one other fandom I'd love to get nominated.ladytharen has created a great new comm for Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows duology, so if you're interested, please do think about joining! Join Here! | Community Profile
My reading has slowed a lot in February, but at least the quality has picked up somewhat from last week. I started the week with a bit of nonfiction — Nicholas Brown's A History of Canberra. Canberra is my hometown. I wasn't born there, but moved there with my parents when I was three, stayed until I was eighteen, and then returned for one year to work as a subeditor on the local paper when I was twenty-two. Apart from a flying visit in 2008 to say goodbye to friends before leaving for Cambridge, I have not returned. Canberra and I have a ... complicated relationship. My childhood there was very happy, and I loved the city — bland, planned suburbia, public service utopia, empty streets, wide open skies, dry bushland with kangaroos encroaching on the suburbs and all. The things that others found suffocating — everyone knowing everyone, middle class conformity, the sense that life and excitement was happening elsewhere, the fact that you couldn't walk into a shop without bumping into at least two people from your school, someone who'd been your mum's colleague, and three people who recognised your dad from TV — made me feel seen and known, and gave me a sense of place. Leaving wrenched something out of me and was largely responsible for my depression, and returning made it worse.
So reading this history was a somewhat disorienting experience. I'm sure I seriously annoyed Matthias, because every ten seconds I was exclaiming things like, 'oh, I knew that local MP — her kids were at school with me!' 'oh, that Chief Minister got into a feud with my mother and refused to go on air and do interviews for local radio if Mum was the presenter,' 'oh, that vice-chancellor of ANU had two sons at my school,' and 'oh, this guy who's being described as "the only billionaire in Canberra" built an absolute monstrosity of a house — more like a bunker-like compound — over the road from our place when I was eight or nine'. Canberra is a very, very small town, especially if you grew up in that weird upper-middle class nexus of public servants, political and local journalists, university lecturers, and politicians that I did. But at the same time there was so much in the city's history that I had not known, because town planning — particularly Canberra's town planning — is not really a subject that's taught in Australian schools. It struck me really forcefully what an odd kind of experiment the city was: designed to be a sort of public service fishbowl, its residents not individuals in their own right, but rather the disinterested representatives of the nation. I had not known, for example, that the territory did not get its own MP until relatively late, and even then the MP was not allowed to vote on national matters, only local Canberra issues — the idea being that with such a high proportion of public servants, Canberra was too biased and involved in national politics to be allowed input. I had not realised that the weird local school system — no standardised tests, just continuous assessment set by each individual school (with an average of the student's grades from the final two years of school determining the grade out of 100 they would receive and use to apply to university) — had been created as an attempt to deal with the comparably high number of Canberran students entering university, and was meant to provide a more rigorous education that would better prepare students for university than a single, standardised test. I had not realised the territory had had no local/state government until the late 1980s, and even then it had been against the express wishes of Canberran voters as expressed in a referendum on the issue — and the voting system they'd been left with resulted in no clear party majority, but rather MLAs from two separate groups who each campaigned on a platform to abolish local/state government! (When I spoke to my mother about this — as we'd moved to Canberra just around the time this all went down — she told me the reason Canberrans had voted against this was because prior to self-government, the federal government had paid for everything: childcare was free, parking was free, and housing was controlled by the federal government. The people voted against self-government because they knew it would bring all that to an end.)
This Canberran rambling probably interests no one but me, so apologies for that long, nerdy, self-indulgent digression. Other than this book, the only thing I've been reading this week is Samantha Shannon's incredible epic fantasy The Priory of the Orange Tree, which isn't supposed to be published yet, but my preorder shipped early, and as a result I have it in my hands. It's an absolute behemoth of a book, and although I read fast, I don't read that fast, so I've not finished it yet. But it's been wonderful to sit in the sunshine in my wing chair and dive into Shannon's lovely, richly imagined new world. I'm sure I'll have more to say when I'm finished.
Matthias and I have been working our way through Luther, which is currently all on Netflix (at least in the UK), and Russian Doll. We've finished the latter, and are up to the fifth (and final) season of the former. It's interesting to watch them both side by side, because Luther is so much an exploration of (toxic) masculinity — in a cartoonish, over-the-top way, perhaps — and Russian Doll is a such a resolute exploration of women's experiences that they make a really interesting contrast, although of course they're both completely different genres.
I really feel that Luther only works because of Idris Elba's incredible charisma and presence, and the incredible chemistry he and Ruth Wilson have together. In the hands of any other actor, the character of Luther would be repellant — and indeed in spite of all the occasional nods the show makes towards stressing that doing police work by the book, following procedure and so on is necessary — what the show really implies is that there are some criminals so abhorrent, some crimes so heinous that regular enforcement of the law is no longer possible. In other words, Luther is Batman, minus the inherited wealth and fancy gadgets. As I say, I adore Idris Elba in the role, and he and Ruth Wilson are a beautiful disaster together, and the grimy London setting and Massive Attack song in the credits are just icing on the cake, but the kind of underlying theme is somewhat disquieting.
Russian Doll is wonderful on almost every level. Natasha Lyonne is marvellous, the intricate time loops with slight, jarring differences, the note perfect rendering of both what it's like to be a woman in your mid-thirties, and (as far as I can tell) a certain kind of New York milieu, the secondary characters, the sountrack and so on are fantastic. My only small quibble would be with the ending, the final message, as it were. To me, all that build-up, all the structure and intricate carpentry underpinning and supporting it, don't pay off. 'Be empathetic and form meaningful connections' is obviously crucial to our existence as human beings, but it doesn't feel, to me, profound enough to justify all that had come before.
A show which I can't believe I'd not heard of, and which I binge watched yesterday afternoon, was the sparkling, sharp, warm-hearted Derry Girls, an absolutely delightful comedy about the trials and tribulations of teenage girls in the early 1990s, set against the backdrop of the final years of the Troubles. It has such a fabulous sense of place, and is written with the kind of gentle mockery and earnestness that can only come from a writer who shares the characters' background and experiences. The soundtrack is simply perfect. The only sour note is a particular recurring 'joke' which I found to be somewhat homophobic — not enough to mar my enjoyment, but which may provoke a stronger reaction in other viewers, so if you were thinking of trying this show on my recommendation and feel this may be something that gives you pause, drop me a comment or DM and I'll elaborate, and you can make up your own mind.
Matthias and I tried out our favourite wine/craft beer bar's latest venture: a cafe/bar open all day and evening, serving its own food (as opposed to the bar's original iteration, which just has a series of food trucks serving food outside for patrons). We had a great brunch, and, as an added bonus, they're serving coffee brewed from beans provided by my favourite Berlin coffee roastery!
I spent the morning bathed in sunshine, reading Priory, but did take advantage of the warm weather to go on a quick walk to and from Grantchester. Spring is well and truly in the air, and I feel restored and refreshed.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 04:26 pm (UTC)Really excited to hear your opinion on Priory of the Orange Tree! I'm on the waiting list for that at the library & should be getting it soon.
I loved Derry Girls too; my MIL was from Belfast, and I've visited NI a couple of times, so the sound of that accent is always weirdly comforting. Plus Catholic girls' schools really are the same everywhere...
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 11:57 pm (UTC)The Canberra thing is interesting to me and it must have been very disorienting! I grew up partly in Glenelg and mostly in the US, and a friend of mine from high school moved to Canberra for a little while and just moved back to Adelaide. I haven't been able to talk to her about those decisions much yet, and I know nothing about the place. That's super interesting to hear about the city planning and governance issues. I'm not sure city planning is taught in US schools either. I know a city planner and I have no idea how she even stumbled into that work. It's definitely something needed here. I'm just now reading The Fatal Shore, and also White Trash, trying to understand something high level about the origin of both of these countries I have roots in.
Also enjoyed Derry Girls so much. I hope there is another season. And glad to hear about Russian Doll. Netflix has been pushing that one to me hard, so I'm glad to hear it's good. I'll have to check it out.
We just discovered Scott & Bailey and are currently binging that.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 05:09 pm (UTC)I think I know what you mean about the homophobia - it's the stuff with "the wee English fella", right? The way he gets feminised by every random character, and OBVIOUSLY being perceived as feminine as a guy is beyond the pale...
no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 07:52 pm (UTC)I'm loving Priory so far — I absolutely love the intricate world Samantha Shannon has constructed, and the fact that most of the important moments, characters, and relationships are between women.
I've not actually been to Northern Ireland (aside from driving through it on a bus on the way to Irish language summer school in Donegal), but Derry Girls recreates it so vividly and with (as far as I can tell) pitch perfect accuracy and a great deal of affection that my lack of familiarity doesn't seem to matter. I can't wait for the second season!
no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 08:03 pm (UTC)I don't think city planning is exactly standard curriculum in any country's schools, so I don't think Australia is particularly odd in this regard, but I would have enjoyed it if it had been taught.
I read The Fatal Shore a couple of years ago, and it is pretty grim stuff — again, although the convict history is taught in school, the sheer violent horror of it is not dwelt on. It really is an excellent book, though.
There is going to be another season of Derry Girls — it's going to air on free-to-air TV in the UK in a couple of weeks, and I guess will make its way overseas in due course (I'm not sure where it airs in the US; certainly it's on Australian Netflix) — and they're in talks to make a third. It's really wonderful. And yes, I definitely recommend Russian Doll.
I've heard good things about Scott & Bailey, so I'm glad you're enjoying that.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 08:10 pm (UTC)Yes, the homophobic stuff that bothered me was in relation to James — there's this running 'joke' where everyone assumes he's gay and he rushes to correct them. Now, it's true that the character is not gay, but there really is no way to correct that kind of assumption (at least the way they play it) without it coming across as homophobic. They seem to realise belatedly that this 'joke' might come across badly and make an attempt to address it in one of the later episodes, but I honestly think it would have been better to leave it out entirely. Although it wasn't enough to sour my opinion of the show, I felt I couldn't in good conscience recommend it wholeheartedly without at least flagging it up as a potential dealbreaker.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-18 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-19 11:26 am (UTC)I got curious about the writer's previous series, London Irish, and lo and behold the first episode was riffing on someone's disability, albeit in that hipster ableism way where you're supposed to think it's the characters' awkwardness around the disability that's funny. Not the first sitcom that kind of thing has killed for me, but it's a shame as I really wanted to like it.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-19 07:24 pm (UTC)Ugh, that's really disappointing, as I had been considering checking out that series as well, but that sounds really awful.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-22 03:59 pm (UTC)Your comment about city planning is really interesting because it's not taught in schools and I don't know how people then become that as a career! When does that even happen?!
Yes. I remember getting a dose of the horror when we toured around Tasmania, and visited the penal colonies there. I enjoyed that Australia was way more honest about it's origins than the US is. The truth and the 'history' we are taught about the founding of the US have a wider, uglier gap.
Oh wow! Nice! I didn't realize they have another season done already. Fun. I'll keep an eye out for it to appear on Netflix.