Archive for April, 2006
April 28th, 2006 by Blythe
The Agony and the Ecstasy
by Irving Stone
Essential reading if you’re planning to visit Florence or Rome.
Barcelona Lonely Planet Guide
Follow their directions to Parc Guell; you’ll ride open-air escalators instead of trudging up the hill with the sweaty masses.
The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown
Maybe you’ve heard of this one? It’s dedicated to me, you know. Check the flyleaf.
Half in Love by Maile Meloy
Short stories about people I feel like I’ve met before. And the author is a young woman who was raised in Montana. And her brother fronts a hip band.
HTML for the World Wide Web by Elizabeth Castro
I told you I am a geek.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
It has some of the eerie futuristic elements of The Handmaid’s Tale without feeling like science fiction. I was reluctant to jump on the bandwagon (I’ve been cranky about hype ever since I slammed shut The Corrections midway through and had it immediately removed from my home) but now I’m riding it right along with the book reviewers of the world.
April 26th, 2006 by Blythe
Earlier this week, I hauled my bicycle out of the storage room and took a spin. Before you start getting all impressed, keep in mind that this bike is a four-speed cruiser with a basket. If I had a banana seat, an orange flag, and some plastic flowers I would hit the pinnacle of hipness. For now, I just have a nerdy bike helmet that makes me look like Mike Myers in the SNL skit where he played the hyperactive boy on a leash.
I bought the bike before we moved, from a craigslist advertiser in a fit of European dreaminess, picturing myself puttering along the cobblestones with a baguette in the basket. I had actually forgotten about the whole contraption until Jeff suggested I dust it off now that riding it wouldn’t require all-weather-tires. So I pulled it out of the Fahrradraum (the special bicycle storage room near the Parking Space of Death, those Germans are so organized) and hopped aboard.
After my experience with German driving regulations, I shouldn’t have been surprised to experience the supreme orderliness with which my fellow bikers and walkers share paths and roadways. I was used to seeing marked bike paths on busy streets, having come from The Most Bikeable City in America. But I also noticed (finally, after walking past them umpteen times before) the signs designating the bikers’ side of the concrete paths through our nearby park versus the walkers’ side. This is a good example of aspects of the German culture that I appreciate and ridicule simultaneously. Couldn’t the walkers probably figure out that they should step aside when a bicyclist comes along, and shouldn’t the bicyclists gently weave around the walkers on their own? Do we really need a sign to tell us what to do in this situation? However, isn’t it nice not to have to look out for slow and apparently deaf walkers who won’t get out of the way when I ring my cute little handlebar bell (a basket AND a bell!)? And isn’t it nice when I’m walking along not to be nearly mown down by those reckless bicyclists?
By the way, please don’t inform the German authorities of my Lance Armstrong moment, because I think there’s another test I’m supposed to take to legally ride my bicycle through the park, and I’m just not mentally prepared for that kind of stress.
April 25th, 2006 by Blythe
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Remember all that complaining about the weather I did? I think it’s time to shut up now.
April 24th, 2006 by Blythe
Jason Kottke recently posted that it’s easier to watch movies than read books along with an annotated version of The Guardian newspaper’s list of best book-to-film adaptations.
His premise depends on how easy it is to sit through a bad film adaptation versus reading a good book (see: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil). It took more time to read the book, yes, but the two hours I spent watching the movie weren’t exactly easy. Even Clint Eastwood and John Cusack couldn’t save it for me.
However, I digress. Here’s my list (F = I’ve seen a film version, B = I’ve read the book).
1. 1984
2. [FB] Alice in Wonderland
3. American Psycho
4. [FB] Breakfast at Tiffany’s
5. Brighton Rock
6. Catch 22
7. [FB] Charlie & the Chocolate Factory
8. A Clockwork Orange
9. [F] Close Range (inc Brokeback Mountain)
10. The Day of the Triffids
11. [F] Devil in a Blue Dress
12. [F] Different Seasons (inc The Shawshank Redemption, Stand By Me, Apt Pupil)
13. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (aka Bladerunner)
14. Doctor Zhivago
15. Empire of the Sun
16. [FB] The English Patient
17. [FB] Fight Club
18. [B] The French Lieutenant’s Woman
19. [F] Get Shorty
20. [FB] The Godfather
21. [FB] Goldfinger
22. Goodfellas
23. Heart of Darkness (aka Apocalypse Now)
24. The Hound of the Baskervilles
25. [F]Jaws
26. The Jungle Book
27. A Kestrel for a Knave (aka Kes)
28. [F] LA Confidential
29. [FB] Les Liaisons Dangereuses
30. [B] Lolita
31. [B] Lord of the Flies
32. The Maltese Falcon
33. [B] Oliver Twist
34. [B] One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
35. Orlando
36. [FB] The Outsiders
37. [FB] Pride and Prejudice
38. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
39. The Railway Children
40. Rebecca
41. The Remains of the Day
42. [F] Schindler’s Ark (aka Schindler’s List)
43. [F] Sin City
44. The Spy Who Came in From the Cold
45. [FB] The Talented Mr Ripley
46. [F] Tess of the D’Urbervilles
47. Through a Glass Darkly
48. [FB] To Kill a Mockingbird
49. Trainspotting
50. The Vanishing
51. Watership Down
A few glaring omissions spring to mind (A River Runs Through It, The Hours, and as Kottke observed, the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy), but reading this list reminded me that, in the right hands, a good book really can become a great movie. Books like The DaVinci Code seem custom-made for the big screen, but even more subtle, literary stores can be adapted well. Now where’s that mysterious film version of The Secret History I keep hearing about?
April 20th, 2006 by Blythe
A piece I wrote was recently published on Expatica.com, a site for English-speaking expatriates.
April 19th, 2006 by Blythe
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Photos of La Sagrada Familia have always frightened me. The spires are too tall, the stone is too dense, the sculptures drip down from their oblong niches like the faces of the villains in Raiders of the Lost Ark who stared too directly at the Holy Spirit. I was as excited as I was terrified to see the real thing for myself.
Late on Easter morning, we emerged from Barcelona’s metro system into the first sunny day we had enjoyed during our short visit. I knew the cathedral must be behind me, because the tourists ahead of me stopped short at the top of the metro stairs and craned their necks upward, shouting, “There it is.” So I turned and tipped my head back. And there, among construction cranes and throngs of student tour groups and blue Catalan skies, it was.
I’ve visited my fair share of European churches. At some point during the admiration of monstrous stained glass windows and hulking marble columns, someone, maybe me, says, “This took hundreds of years to build. Can you imagine, there are generations of people who only saw it partially completed. It is so ambitious and expensive and immense, something like this could never be built today. The religious fervor and the money just isn’t there anymore.” And then I would go on to the crypt and see the graves of the priests and the architects and one or two famous writers and artists who were buried there and who never saw the beauty of the finished product that I am enjoying.
Sagrada Familia is as gigantic an undertaking as I have ever seen. It incorporates hundreds of sculptures, tons and tons of stone, modern and ancient architecture, and years and years of labor. And it’s only half-finished. Only eight of the twelve spires are complete. One entire facade was erected within the past twenty years. Its unenclosed interior is filled with scaffolding, and its windows are sparkly and new. It is untraditional and modern; its interior columns look like trees, their branches supporting egg-shaped spires with words and mosaics adorning them. The story of its construction is dramatic, involving political battles, financial struggle, war, and the tragic death of its visionary architect in a tram accident before the first towers were erected. It may not be completed within my lifetime.
I searched the crypt museum for a model of the completed church; I wanted to know what it would look like as a whole, and I was troubled when I realized that I will never know. Then it occurred to me, how many people get to experience the birth of art? And what more proof do I need that faith and ambition are alive than to see the construction cranes rising above these spires, poised to build an even higher central tower and dome? It is a frightening and glorious place, and I understood why so many faithful were still working to complete Gaudi’s vision, to lift a giant hand to the heavens. If the Holy Spirit is anywhere, I realized, it’s in there.
And then I made my way out of the church just in time, before my face began to melt right off.
April 18th, 2006 by Blythe
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Enjoy these photos from our trip to Barcelona. It was a refreshing and magical weekend. I’ll write more about it later, after my siesta. What a civilized way to live.
I had a delightful birthday thanks to good wishes that came from every corner of my life (including the Interweb corner; thanks for your messages). And, I discovered that I share a birthday with Buffy and Farmer Ted.
April 13th, 2006 by Blythe
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I have never been one to fret about getting older. I spend most birthdays basking in My Day, knowing that I am allowed to pick where we eat for dinner and that I’ll be obliged to consume my favorite yellow cake with fudgy frosting afterward. Milestone birthdays are different only because they remind me to think about where I was five, or ten, or twenty years ago and where I might land five or twenty years from now.
Five years ago, I celebrated on a sunny Saturday with a professional manicure and pedicure, good weather, and drinks followed by a heavenly dinner at my favorite restaurant with close friends. I had cleaned my house the day before, so I had that feeling of surveying my world in the state in which it was intended. I spent my afternoon reading a book on the couch. I took a nap. I opened birthday cards and packages from friends and family. My husband and my mother both came through with fancy jewelry. I partied a few days later with another cake and a family dinner. Thirty didn’t scare me. I was right where I had imagined I might be when I reached this milestone. I’d married the right person, found an interesting and challenging career, lived in a cozy home in a city I loved, and had the means to pay someone else to polish my nails.
Thirty-five has arrived and I am in a place I never imagined. I am alone much of the time, in a city that hasn’t yet sparked a connection. I struggle to communicate. I left a job where I felt useful to embark on the path to becoming a writer, an artistic career steeped in rejection. I wake up each morning and question every decision – should I try to go out and get some exercise? Or should I sit down and meet my page-a-day goal? Am I doing my part in taking care of our everyday needs – clean house, hot food, lightbulbs changed, since that’s my main contribution our livelihood these days? Shouldn’t I make some German flashcards?
I never imagined that, at thirty-five, I would be bold enough to call myself a writer. I live in a new culture and every time I am brave enough to open my mouth and speak it is a small victory. I’ve visited three different countries in the past three months, and I’ll see at least three more by summertime. I have time to enjoy visits from family and friends, to act as interpreter and tourguide. I am making my way through all the recipes I clipped from magazines and marked in cookbooks but never before had the energy to attempt. I am creating a story that I am proud of. Tomorrow, I will celebrate my birthday by flying to a city that I’ve never visited before, with my husband, the person who makes me laugh harder than anyone else, and who also loves me whatever my age.
This weekend, the western world celebrates Easter, and this month the northern hemisphere celebrates spring. New life, new plants, new sunshine, new baby chicks. Every year, every five years, every decade brings something new my way.
April 11th, 2006 by Blythe
Bun-O-Vision
I especially recommend “The Shining.” (REDRUM REDRUM)
April 10th, 2006 by Blythe
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We celebrated Easter a week early with tasty hot waffles, chocolate bunnies, and live sheep, all within a half block of our apartment building. The big Oster (Easter) market in Nurnberg drags on for two weeks, but our local Furth version was just three days long. It might lack the guy at the Nurnberg market who sells plastic kitchen utensils (how festive!), but it offers locally-produced art and tasty sausage rolls cooked before your eyes. Click on the photo above to see more.
