RIP IX BOOK 3: Laura by Vera Caspary

"I decided that it was lucky that most of my cases had not involved women. Their logic confused me."

One day, for no particular reason, my dad bought me a book. He claims now that he bought it because 'he knew it was good', but I think we all know that he basically looked at the name and thought it would be a cool thing to get me. AND HE WAS RIGHT. 

So, and please bear with me because I finished this abouuuut a month ago AND I haven't written a review in about ten million weeks, this book is about Laura. Surprise, right? To be more specific, it's about Laura, murder victim and formerly an advertising extraordinaire, woman of independent means and kinnnd of badassery. She's not your average murder victim, OR your average 1940s woman and that's really just the start of what makes Laura (the book) so damn good.

There's a limit to what I can say here without giving away so so much information about the murder, and, more importantly, the murderer, so this is going to be fairly brief. It's brevity, however, shouldn't be used as an indicator of how much I liked the book, because I liked it so much I could probably write whole essays on it. The fact that I'm going to HAVE to do that, along with the fact that I really want you guys to read this book without knowing what's going to happen, prevents me from it, but rest assured- it's awesome.

Laura is a noir novel, but it's also a noir novel that's kind of feminist. This isn't to say that the detective is a woman (although that would have been awesome) because actually he's a handsome police officer, but the novel is very clearly focused on Laura and the excellent person she was. The men are all obsessed by her, and not just in a 'oh my gosh she was so beautiful and I loved her so' kind of way (although that does happen) but also in an admiring, impressed-with-her-success kind of way. Laura is outlived, for instance, by a sponging fiancé, and how often do the genders work that way round? Not that often, I'd say.

The perspective in Laura isn't just that of the detective, but that of other people who knew and loved her. The novel opens with the narrative of an older, fatter writer who was in love with Laura but also generally considered her on-his-level, and he annoyed the shit out of me. I actually thought I wasn't going to get on with the book because of this, but then the narration shifted and I realised that, actually, I wasn't supposed to like him, and all was well again. Seriously, it's a really good book, guys.

Laura is basically a really really good noir novel, just in itself, and it has the added benefit of being written by a woman so its focal female point is realistic and interesting and sometimes seems more whole than the characters who are alive. I was excited by its noirness, because it's a genre I'm so interested in yet never seem to read, but I was, of course, even more excited by its feministness. So much excitement that I'm just making up words now, apparently. But you guys will forgive me, I'm sure. Just, freaking read this book already!

Wednesday, Wednesday

Oh you gorgeous people.

I have about 20 minutes before I have to leave the house and go and talk about King Lear (glory, glory) so what better way to use the time than to update you all on my exceedingly busy, yet weirdly uninteresting to others, life.

Here's how it goes: Work, read, sleep, work, read, sleep, read, uni, sleep, read, uni, sleep, work, read, sleep. Weekends, I die, or, rather, I read some more and try to be at least vaguely sociable? Or something. This last weekend was actually really excellent- it had been my first week as a postgrad, so I was obviously KNACKERED but also stressed (new things aren't good for my sense of well-being! They're just not. No matter how much I love them eventually, everything that's new is a little bit of a struggle for me) and on Saturday morning I just wanted to sleep all day.

Instead, though, I did yoga, I read about half of A Midsummer Night's Dream (it is A Midsummer Night's Dream week. I am happy. Except about the 1935 film version I watched last night, which was so incredibly awful) I went to the library, and then had my friend Justine over for talking and eating and drinking and movies and it was so nice and I was like 'oh yeah! Relaxing! I remember now' and it's not like doing that left me with tons of work to do and now I'm panicking because that's really not the case.

Sunday though- after walking Justine to the station and making my way to my Grandad's house, I got the awesome surprise of my dad being there- he's not home from hospital for good, but he was out on day release, which was just excellent in itself and made me really happy, but was also excellent because it meant I didn't have to sit in a hospital all afternoon and got home at a way more reasonable time than 8pm (which is late for a school night, alright?) I think basically what I have to report is, last week was a little bit rough (which is exactly what I was expecting) but things are already looking up, and I feel like I'm getting into the swing of things- at least I do this week!

Obviously, blogwise, things are slightly less organised and in the swing of things, but I think about you all often, and have some reviews in draft form that may get written at some point, or may get forgotten because, you know, life. I am trying to keep up with all of your writings, but I am usually too tired, or too reading-it-on-my-phone to comment, but rest assured that I am totally still keeping up with your lives/reading/whatever, and if you have any commenting system other than Bloggers', I'm probably still trying to comment, too. Because of my complete devotion to you all (and how easy it is to read blogs when I'm really tired...)

Now, tell me all about your lives and leave nothing out. I'm waiting...

Devouring TV: What I've Been Watching Lately

Oh my god! How am I even writing a post about TV, I haven't done that for about 10,000 years! This is very true, and I don't really have an excuse for it, other than that the main thing I was working through was a rewatch of Breaking Bad, and I've already written about that, and everything else I would write about in a serious way (Pushing Daisies, My Mad Fat Diary) I watched too long ago to do them justice*. Instead you get this: a little snippet of things I've been watching, MOSTLY on Netflix because TV at the moment sucks so much. Here it is:

The Great British Bake Off

I feel like this has come up in one of these kind of recaps before, but GBBO is literally the only thing I'm watching on actual TV at the moment. It's so sedate and nice and soothing that I can't help but feel massive affection for it, and the fact that one of the contestants had a beautiful and magnificent beard doesn't hurt things either.

It's exactly my kind of show, and it has allowed for some pretty good housemate bonding times so it's good for that, too. Yay, cakes? Yay cakes.

That Mitchell and Webb Look

So, That Mitchell and Webb Look is totally old and I watched it the first time round, but it's just been added to Netflix so of course I'm having to watch all three series again. If you've never seen it, you're missing a treat- sketch comedy that takes the piss out of advertising, films, pretty much everything you can think of in the media, um... numbers? Sport, definitely sport, and basically it's hilarious. It also has my favourite sketch possibly ever (sorry, Monty Python) which is a take off of Rebecca and really has to be seen to retain any comedic value because I definitely can't explain it. Oh wait, here it is:

SO GOOD.

Pokemon

And, continuing the nostalgia drive... It was brought to my attention that Pokemon (original, not shitty. If there are more than 150 151 Pokemon, then it's bullshit) was on Netflix, so obviously I was STRAIGHT THERE with great eagerness and fond childhood memories. I mostly watch it when I'm doing other stuff, but so much of it is internalised that I pretty much know what's going on anyway. I actually haven't watched it for a little while, because busy, but I've already gotten to the point where Charmander turns into an asshole so... Maybe I'm done. (I'm definitely not done).

Futurama

Of COURSE I haven't only just seen Futurama, are you MAD? I remember when it started on English TV because I was watching it, obviously. However- Sky has been showing the newer episodes (i.e. the Comedy Central ones) and it FREAKS ME OUT when I haven't seen an episode of Futurama, so I've resolved to watch them all on American Netflix. There are multiple problems with this, mainly that I've seen the first four seasons SO MANY TIMES that they're practically internalised and I can't seem to take in new information; which leads to the second problem of not knowing exactly what I've seen of the new stuff because I start off an episode going 'hmm, don't think I've seen this one!' and then halfway through going 'oh wait, no, actually I have.'

I mean, it's not the WORST problem in the world, I realise. It's just annoying. But I will persevere because I NEED more Zapp Brannigan in my LIFE, man.

Bob's Burgers

I feel really really late to the Bob's Burgers party, but I'm here now, it can finally begin. I mean, I've only watched Season 1 so far, but seriously, HOW GOOD IS THIS SHOW? So much genuine loling, so much awesomeness. Too much? Not quite, but nearly. What am I even saying anymore? I'm not sure, but basically I think Bob's Burgers is the shiz, and we should all watch it right now, neglecting our entire lives to do so. Agreed? Agreed.

Six Feet Under

I like to always have a drama on the go (breaks up all the cartoon watching...) and Six Feet Under's time has finally come. I've been wanting to watch it for YEARS, and I've had the boxset since Christmas, but kind of decided that I'd wait to watch it because subject matter... Yeah. Regardless, I think I've cried at every episode I've seen so far (so... Three) just because death is horrible and difficult and I FEEL for everyone, all the time. Having said that, I think I've also laughed at every episode, so... This programme is so weird, and I mean that as a compliment. But it is SO WEIRD. The characters are weirdos, their lives are strange, their occupation is one that, unless you actually do it, you don't really get, I think, and just yeah. So odd, but pretty good so far. Alan Ball, I think you might have done it again.

Or, you know, you did it again. At the time. Before some of the other stuff you've done... I don't know, shut up!

And that's what I've been watching, and that's why nothing gets done around here! It's an ok life, you know, I can't complain.

*Oh SHIT, I've just realised that I watched all of House of Cards and have said nary a word about it to you all. The reason is, I think, twofold: Firstly, it's MUCH too spoilery to say anything about, ever; and secondly: I watched (almost) all of it with my now-ex housemate so I totally had someone to discuss it with as it happened, which was awesome. Don't feel too rejected now, internet.

RIP IX BOOK 2: We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

"When Jim Donell thought of something to say he said it as often and in as many ways as possible, perhaps because he had very few ideas and had to wring each one dry... I made a rule for myself: Never think anything more than once."

I wasn't overwhelmed with love for We Have Always Lived in the Castle. This surprised me, because I loved The Haunting of Hill House an unspeakable amount, but I guess this goes to show that you can't necessarily read by the author all the time and expect it to work. It's not a terrible book, I should probably start off by saying, and actually I think the main problem I had with it was one that I was supposed to have, but at the same time... It kind of bugged me!

SO. The deal with We Have Always Lived in the Castle is that Merricat lives with her sister Constance and her sick Uncle Julian in, well, not so much a castle as a really big house. The family used to be bigger but all but the three of them were killed when the sugar for their strawberries was replaced with arsenic, for which Constance was tried (and then acquitted) because she was the one who prepared the food. Because of this, the townspeople who live just down from the big house are both afraid of and ostracise the family, and so Merricat is the only one who leaves, twice a week to get the groceries. As things do, as the book goes on things get progressively worse, the townspeople get downright nasty, and everything feels horribly unsettled and uneasy.

There were things I liked about this book, and I don't want you to think I hated it because I didn't. I was totally intrigued by the way the townspeople didn't seem to like or care about the family to begin with, but as soon as the other family members were murdered, they took it almost personally and took it upon themselves to punish the surviving ones. It felt almost like they were just taking the chance to outwardly do what they had been talking about in their own houses for years and years, and it's this kind of bubbling over nastiness that makes me really like Shirley Jackson. (Is it time to read The Lottery again. It might be time. Go on, read it!)

BUT. I really hated Merricat. This was unfortunate, since Merricat is our narrator and the way we see this world, but I couldn't help it, I just hated her. I don't think that I was supposed to like her, exactly, but I don't think I was supposed to hate her with the passionate fury that I did. She's supposed to be 18 (I think) but acts like a child- ok, understandable because the majority of her family died when she was 12, so maybe she has arrested development issues (God, I love that show). But she's childish in a way that means she won't accept reality, and she's childish in a way that holds Constance back which is incredibly unfair to her (please keep in mind that Constance was acquitted. She's probably not a murderer, so we don't have to hate her. We can want good things for her.) 

So, the fact that Merricat seems to be completely mentally disturbed meant that I just couldn't get on board with wanting good things for her. I wanted good things for Constance, and sweet Uncle Julian, but that seemed like it would have to involve Merricat so I didn't really even want that either. Now that I'm thinking about this, I guess I'm realising that I kind of cast Merricat as the villain of the piece, and I'm also realising that maybe that's what Jackson meant to do all along. Which is making me think that We Have Always Lived in the Castle is even cleverer than I realised, but not that I must automatically be in love with it, because at times I really had to grit my teeth and power through reading it because I HATE MERRICAT. It is not a long book, and it took longer than it should to read. 

Basically, you will probably like this book better than I did, which is some but not ten billions. I don't even feel let down by Jackson, because I think she actually did exactly what she intended to do with it, but it just really wasn't for me, in the end. Not bad as an example of Shirley Jackson's themes and stuff, but definitely not my favourite of her books.

Devouring Films: Movie Mini-Reviews

In lieu of reading, and because I suspect I'm not going to have much time to watch ANYTHING EVER over the next year*, I've been watching quite a few films of late. These are the ones that were both 1) new to me, and 2) I didn't fall asleep watching (a rare feat, these days). Why the mini-reviews? You know, lazy...

Don Jon

Ok, first of all I lied, because I actually did fall asleep watching Don Jon and had to watch the end half the morning after. This is neither here nor there, but that's what happened. SO. I've wanted to see this pretty much since I first heard about it, because there can't be a film written and directed by JGL that I haven't seen. That just isn't a thing that can happen. FORTUNATELY for us all, this turned out to be amazing, and I shall try to describe why.

So, Jon is kind of a dick. All he has in his life is the gym, and work, and church, and having sex with a beautiful woman night after night after... Ok, I know that doesn't sound so bad. Jon is ALSO addicted to porn, to the extent that he enjoys it more than sex with actual women, and this is really just a symbol for the emptiness of his life and his SOUL. He meets and 'falls in love' (spoiler: it's not really love) with Scarlett Johansson, which starts to make him a better man, but there's still something missing, and we're always aware of that as the audience in a way that Jon isn't.

Basically. I love how porn addiction is treated as a symptom of a wider issue of caring about how things look rather than how they feel, I love how this film could have been so gross in the wrong hands but is actually done SO well and sensitively and everything else, and I love the part that Julianne Moore has to play that I will tell you literally no more about because I didn't even know she was in the film but I'm so glad she was. Basically, as I write this, I watched this film a week ago, and I already want to watch it again. Ringing endorsement? Ringing endorsement.

Dead Poets Society

Almost as soon as Robin Williams died, people started talking about Dead Poets Society and how excellent it is, and people I know were really surprised that I hadn't seen it already. I know what they mean now- everything about it is something I enjoy in a film (except that there are bagpipes in the beginning. I HATE BAGPIPES) but I have a legitimate reason for not having seen it until now. SO you know how there's that episode of Friends where that woman steals Monica's credit card, and Monica's all like 'why do you live like this?' and the woman says 'Did you ever see Dead Poets Society? I came out of that movie and thought "well, that's 2 hours of my life I'll never get back." And that thought scared me.' THAT one thing made me think that DPS was going to be really boring. Because I'm a stupid person. Look, I didn't say it was a GOOD reason...

Anyway! I finally did watch it- I had to wait ages for the DVD because it's apparently unavailable to watch online ANYWHERE and the DVD is like golddust, but I have now seen it, and oh how I wept! I just... There are so many things I loved about it that I don't even know where to start, but maybe I should start by saying that I actually don't think it's a perfect film, and there are weird pacing issues and sometimes they don't seem to know which characters to focus on the most BUT BUT BUT there are moments that I think ARE completely perfect and it kind of cancels out any other inconsistencies there might be in the film.

REALLY I just want to talk about the end of this movie (not the standing on desks. Which is AMAZING. But before that) because I have total feelings about everyone involved in that, but I can't because you might not have seen it and I don't want to take that away from you. So instead, here's what I'll say- I love how disobedience at this school is going into the woods and reading poetry, I love how even the baddest of the boys really aren't that bad, I love how it reminded me that poetry isn't so bad**, and I love how Robin Williams lights up every scene he's in, and shakes up the lives of boys that have always just done what they're told and haven't ever been taught to love things that aren't money or success.

Also, this: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for." Just, yes. Please.

This probably should have been a full review rather than a mini one, because I still have so much more to say. But watch it, watch it, watch it, and we'll talk further in the comments.

Beginners

I only vaguely knew of Beginners because Christopher Plummer won an Oscar for it, so when it was on TV (a LONG time ago, now) I figured it was worth recording. This film kind of blew me away- I don't know if it's because I had somehow gotten the wrong idea about it (I thought it was going to be more comedic than it actually was) or because it's genuinely as excellent as I think it is, but either way I was so incredibly impressed, and yes, I'll say it, moved by this film.

Let's see if I can describe it in a way that makes it sound at all appealing... So Ewan McGregor plays this guy whose father has just died, but before he did, he came out as gay and lived voraciously until he died. This is making this all sound a lot more linear than it actually is, because really the film cuts between Ewan McGregor in the present trying to cope with grief along with being more open to other people because of it. This style is something which works really well, in that these flashbacks cut in when McGregor is trying to do other things, which is absolutely how grief works, but it's not just the style. Everything about this film is sort of beautiful, and perfect, and so so sad, so of course- of COURSE I loved it.

I don't think I've done a very good job of summing it up at all, and I feel like that might be because it's not a film that can be summed up very well, or maybe I'm writing this too soon after I've seen it so it's all still too fresh. Wikipedia tells me it's based on the writer/director's actual experience of his father coming out at 75, which explains why it feels so honest and true, and it's a shame that, in a film that does such a good job of describing entire character traits in such a few lines, I can't do it the same justice in this tiny review. Consider this, when Christopher Plummer explains to Ewan McGregor why he's with the man he's with:

"Well, let's say that since you were little, you always dreamed of getting a lion. And you wait, and you wait, and you wait, and you wait, but the lion doesn't come. And along comes a giraffe. You can be alone, or you can be with the giraffe."

"I'd wait for the lion."

"That's why I worry about you."

I mean, right? RIGHT?! So revelatory about Ewan McGregor's character, in so few words. Basically, you have to watch this because I'm doing a terrible job of describing it, but just don't let the fact that I've apparently forgotten the names of all the characters put you off because that's not important, right? Of course not.


*Dramatic? Perhaps. But would you have me any other way?
**I kind of hate poetry, I think really only because it reminds me that I don't really have a beautiful soul because I don't really get it. Like, hardly ever. But this film made me feel like I could, maybe.

RIP IX BOOK 1: The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith (LOL)

"Though they spent so much time trying to make themselves beautiful, you were not supposed to admit to women that beauty mattered."

I finished The Silkworm just before the start of RIP so THIS TOTALLY COUNTS. Also, the fact that I'm writing a review at all is an achievement in itself, so it's all good. Before I say absolutely nothing about The Silkworm (come on, it's a detective novel- CAN I tell you anything about it? Not really...), I think it's important to just say I'm really really glad that the Cormoran Strike novels are going to be a whole series, JUST LIKE I HOPED THEY WOULD BE when I reviewed The Cuckoo's Calling last year. So, what I'm saying is, thanks for listening to me and doing what I wanted, international bestseller and millionaire, JK Rowling.

SO. The Silkworm. I enjoyed this book a lot, to the extent that I managed to read it in a couple of days which really doesn't happen at the moment, and the fact that I only did that because I had to take it back to the library is neither here nor there. It's got a lot of the great stuff from the first book (Cormoran, Robin, mystery solving awesomeness) but it also deepens the things we know about the main characters AND, I think, sets the main crime in an area I'm more interested in than the fashion world, which is the literary world.

What's especially cool about this is that, in my brain, this means that a lot of the characters could easily be caricatures of real editors and authors in the literary world, and since this is kind of a theme of the novel, I'm choosing to believe that's true. There's a murder in this book. I realise that's not incredibly shocking for a detective novel, but at the same time, the only reason I'm telling you about it is that it's almost definitely written in the blurb on the back of your copy, which is annoying. And it's annoying because the murder doesn't happen (or get discovered, I should say) until the middle of the book, which meant that for the first half I was just sitting around WAITING for the murder, which I didn't really appreciate because I knew I was MISSING stuff, but I also knew MURDER was afoot and I couldn't focus.

 But still. This is all really swings and roundabouts, cause when it comes right down to it, I just really enjoyed this book. I think that, as someone who reads a LOT of literary fiction, when I get down to it and read something more genre-y, I really enjoy it because OMG STORY STORY STORY, and then I wonder why I don't read more detective novels. (And then I read more detective novels and remember that most people can't really write, and THAT is why I read Lit Fic). So that's part of the deal with this, but also, you know, characters and plot and some really gross and disturbing stuff and JK can WRITE, man. She really can.

I feel like this was very rambly, and for that I apologise. Really all I want to say is this: I feel like I've seen some people going 'I feel weeeeird about reading anything by JK that isn't Harry Potter', and you know what? I get you. But, the thing is, weird feelings or no, you're really going to be missing out on something awesome if you keep living your life like that. Cormoran Strike not only has an awesome name, but is a really excellent character, his lovely assistant Robin is, you know, lovely, and I kind of love everything about these books. You probably will too, so just stop worrying and learn to love this brave new world of JK's writing. It's pretty great.

Sunday Sundries: Happy Birthday, Stephen King

Hey guys, hey guys, hey guys! How is everyone? I am on the back end of nine days off work, so naturally I'm really grumpy that I have to go back tomorrow- but since I'm not a normal person and only work three days a week, it seems churlish to complain. But let's not think about tomorrow, let's talk about this week just gone.

It wasn't anything spectacular- I went to a few places, made some MOOMIN related purchases (pjs and a phone case and a book, thanks for asking), and just generally tried to relax and recharge before my life becomes so ridiculously busy that I can't stand it (but I will. I so will.) In preparation for that, I took a little trip to my new uni just to see how long it takes to walk there from the station, and I did already know this but LOOK HOW PRETTY IT IS:

I mean, right? That's worth the fees right there.

So. A good week. Apart from work, this week holds my last Wednesday off until reading week (and then Christmas. And then another reading week. And then Easter) and my induction day at uni on Thursday. Can you be excited for and terrified by something all at once? If you can, that is what I am right now. Eeeeeeek.

But anyway, the important thing is that today is Stephen King's birthday. (Yeah. THAT'S the important thing...) I don't know if I can overstate how important Stephen King has been to me as a reader over the last few years, but you probably know all about that if you've been around here for any length of time. Choosing to read his books in order gave me something to focus my mind on when I had literally nothing to focus my mind on, and gave me a project for when I didn't really know what I was doing, in any area of my life. There were times towards the start where I was pretty much reading his books because I literally didn't know what else I should be doing, or because my mind felt so empty but so dark that I couldn't think of anything else I could do.

I got better. I don't necessarily credit Stephen King with that, but having a project really did help at the darkest points. Things have changed so much since reading his books was my only project (which explains why I still haven't read all of his books...) but I'm still always going to be grateful that I had them when I needed them, and maybe even more grateful that they'll be there when I want them, too.

When I think about Stephen King, I can't help but think about this blog too- the two things really go hand in hand for me, and my relationship with them has really shifted in the same way. There was a time when I needed this blog, because I needed things to do, to keep me going. Now, I have so little free time that it's not necessarily the first thing I think of when I do have some (that thing would be sleep) but it's such a part of me that I can't imagine it ever not being here. I know I'm only going to have less and less free time as this academic year gets underway, but the thought of not having this space anymore hasn't even crossed my mind. I'm not saying I'm going to be posting regularly- I think that would be unrealistic for me to believe, both in a sense of how much I'm going to be able to read, and then how much I'm going to be able to write- but I'll be here, sometimes. And then, also, always.

So there it is. In case you were wondering (you definitely weren't) if you'll ever see me around here again once I get sucked into the sixteenth century, then this is your answer. I'll be around, and I'll be thinking of you often. The fact that this blog isn't everything to me anymore is undoubtedly a good thing, but the fact that I want it to remain as something is still there. And that's a good thing too.