Back down to earth and onto classes today. joy. Whereabouts of the luggage completely unknown at the moment, but hopefully it'll turn up at some point.
Blogging will resume tomorrow, I think, but perhaps I will post a couple of things that I wrote while on holiday. Yes, my commitment to you, dear readers, doesn't even cease while I'm sipping rum drinks by the pool.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Impatience...
... it's only a few days until Harry Potter emerges. Oh, the joy. Seriously. I cannot wait. I just don't quite know what I'm going to do with friends / family / work until then. Seriously.
When I was in Madrid, many many years ago, an acquaintance somewhat berated me for reading Harry Potter; he didn't understand, he explained, when there was so much of the great literary canon to read, why you would spend time reading children's books. Today, Unsprung has a great article in riposte to that line of reasoning. However, I take issue with reading that being simply in response to the lack of leisure time US-dwellers have; why do adults in other parts of the world, such as France or Spain with their six weeks' annual leave, read them? (Hmm, having said that, never seen a French or Spanish adult reading them. Oops).
Anyway, I think we're delving into it too much; they're simply rollicking stories, even if the story-telling is not everything people would like it to be. I like them. Not everyone does; that's ok. Still, it's nice to not have reading be hard work all the time. It's not that one shouldn't reject the classics - they are so for a reason, even Wuthering Heights, and I am trying to to rectify my stultifying gap of that canon. It's just fine to balance them with something mindless, easy to manage and, quite frankly, fun. Because after something as dense, torturous and miserable as a Dostoyevsky, you want to relax. It's how I know I'm stressed when I didn't even realise it: I somehow end up coming home from the library with piles and piles of detective fiction. Further, there are those fab people who argue for reading for reading's sake, in general, and enjoying the lighter side of fiction - I wholeheartedly agree.
And for anyone who doesn't think children's books should be read by adults I have a few words for you: The His Dark Materials Trilogy by Philip Pullman. It treats children like adults by according them respect and the ability to deal with death, God, existentialism and love. And those books are some of the few that I honestly re-visit every couple of years and continue to find something new, astonishing and beautiful about them every time. He also puts it best as to why we should read children's fiction:
When I was in Madrid, many many years ago, an acquaintance somewhat berated me for reading Harry Potter; he didn't understand, he explained, when there was so much of the great literary canon to read, why you would spend time reading children's books. Today, Unsprung has a great article in riposte to that line of reasoning. However, I take issue with reading that being simply in response to the lack of leisure time US-dwellers have; why do adults in other parts of the world, such as France or Spain with their six weeks' annual leave, read them? (Hmm, having said that, never seen a French or Spanish adult reading them. Oops).
Anyway, I think we're delving into it too much; they're simply rollicking stories, even if the story-telling is not everything people would like it to be. I like them. Not everyone does; that's ok. Still, it's nice to not have reading be hard work all the time. It's not that one shouldn't reject the classics - they are so for a reason, even Wuthering Heights, and I am trying to to rectify my stultifying gap of that canon. It's just fine to balance them with something mindless, easy to manage and, quite frankly, fun. Because after something as dense, torturous and miserable as a Dostoyevsky, you want to relax. It's how I know I'm stressed when I didn't even realise it: I somehow end up coming home from the library with piles and piles of detective fiction. Further, there are those fab people who argue for reading for reading's sake, in general, and enjoying the lighter side of fiction - I wholeheartedly agree.
And for anyone who doesn't think children's books should be read by adults I have a few words for you: The His Dark Materials Trilogy by Philip Pullman. It treats children like adults by according them respect and the ability to deal with death, God, existentialism and love. And those books are some of the few that I honestly re-visit every couple of years and continue to find something new, astonishing and beautiful about them every time. He also puts it best as to why we should read children's fiction:
So what, exactly, is wrong with that?We still need joy and delight, the promise of connection with something beyond ourselves. Perhaps children's literature is the last forum left for such a project.
Friday, June 22, 2007
It's All About You
I don't generally read Alexander Chancellor in the guardian, and today was a reminder why, really - he's just a bit of a prat. Rushdie undoubtedly thought about the potential reaction of his "enemies," but that's not the point. The point is that he shouldn't have to worry about them and it's the justifiers of suicide bombings and the bombings themselves that have the responsibility. Seriously. Or the people who have now decided to give Osama bin Laden the highest possible honour for Islam - seriously, Rushdie did this when nothing else bin Laden did has? Other interesting responses to the ridiculousness here.
I wonder if I would be so het up about this were I not reading Midnight's Children right now? I hope so.
No more ranting about it, I promise. Instead you should go here and watch the video called Porking for a preview of what I might be upset about these days...
I wonder if I would be so het up about this were I not reading Midnight's Children right now? I hope so.
No more ranting about it, I promise. Instead you should go here and watch the video called Porking for a preview of what I might be upset about these days...
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Mouthing Off
One of the most interesting things about living in the States is seeing at firsthand the obsession placed upon the First Amendment. While people are divided over the other Constitutional Amendments (no right to privacy via the Fourteenth, what exactly the Second Amendment's "right to bear arms" means - when the most vocal adherents of a living constitution suddenly become originalists), generally when you ask people here, the right to free speech comes up over and over again as the most fundamental right of all, in a way that I don't think would happen in the UK.
I could think about that, about what that really means, all day and all night, but as I have memos to finish, I'll ponder on what actually got me here. Which is the declaration in the last few days by a Pakistani government official that knighting Salman Rushdie will lead to more suicide bombings and, most worryingly, that such bombings are justified. That to knight him is "utterly insensitiv[e]" in the wake of trying to rebuild relations between Britain and Pakistan.
I once stated, to someone's utter disgust, that I think people should take responsibility for what they write, even fiction. The Satanic Verses was not exactly a neutral title, now was it? We place curbs on people's right to speech much of the time, particularly when the right thinks that somehow saying "fuck" will warp children's minds (more so of course than telling them that creationism is scientifically equivalent to evolutionary theory). And I stand by my comment to a certain extent. If you're trying to be provocative, admit it, at least.
Nonetheless, the reaction of Iran at the time and now this man, Ijaz ul-Haq, is just bewildering to me. Insulting, yes, the book may well be, but I'm sure Allah, God, Jehovah, the Flying Spaghetti monster, whoever, can deal with it her/him/itself. Say you're offended, yes. But blow up people, try to murder them for it? That seems somewhat insulting to the strength of your faith in God's retribution. But then, as you may know, faith is not necessarily something I understand that well.
I don't believe freedom of speech is that important when you're starving or dying of thirst. But for the rest of us, it's something that we should be highly vigilant about. Particularly when they're saying something we don't like. So, Mr ul-Haq, you have the right to say what you have. I wouldn't throw you in prison for it (although in Britain it's probably incitement to religious hatred in some way). But note this: I want to. I'm just going to resist.
Sorry if this is utterly illogical in its flow and incoherent - tiredness is taking over. I just wanted to write about this before it disappears from the news. Undoubtedly more fodder for Hitchens, Dawkins et al.
I could think about that, about what that really means, all day and all night, but as I have memos to finish, I'll ponder on what actually got me here. Which is the declaration in the last few days by a Pakistani government official that knighting Salman Rushdie will lead to more suicide bombings and, most worryingly, that such bombings are justified. That to knight him is "utterly insensitiv[e]" in the wake of trying to rebuild relations between Britain and Pakistan.
I once stated, to someone's utter disgust, that I think people should take responsibility for what they write, even fiction. The Satanic Verses was not exactly a neutral title, now was it? We place curbs on people's right to speech much of the time, particularly when the right thinks that somehow saying "fuck" will warp children's minds (more so of course than telling them that creationism is scientifically equivalent to evolutionary theory). And I stand by my comment to a certain extent. If you're trying to be provocative, admit it, at least.
Nonetheless, the reaction of Iran at the time and now this man, Ijaz ul-Haq, is just bewildering to me. Insulting, yes, the book may well be, but I'm sure Allah, God, Jehovah, the Flying Spaghetti monster, whoever, can deal with it her/him/itself. Say you're offended, yes. But blow up people, try to murder them for it? That seems somewhat insulting to the strength of your faith in God's retribution. But then, as you may know, faith is not necessarily something I understand that well.
I don't believe freedom of speech is that important when you're starving or dying of thirst. But for the rest of us, it's something that we should be highly vigilant about. Particularly when they're saying something we don't like. So, Mr ul-Haq, you have the right to say what you have. I wouldn't throw you in prison for it (although in Britain it's probably incitement to religious hatred in some way). But note this: I want to. I'm just going to resist.
Sorry if this is utterly illogical in its flow and incoherent - tiredness is taking over. I just wanted to write about this before it disappears from the news. Undoubtedly more fodder for Hitchens, Dawkins et al.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Alright, hear this
Yesterday was a very, very good day. For various reasons, most pointless in terms of sharing. But grand.
Today has been less hot.
It started off well - I used my GLORIOUS new coffee maker, which I love. But somehow, at lunch, while clearing up my machine, I managed to delete EVERY APPLICATION I HAD. Then I found out that simply buying the cover for an ibook doesn't actually give you cover - you have to "enroll" it.
Bugger.
Still, now fixed thanks to Jody at Apple, thank you very much indeed!
AND I am an internet-published author! My work for CEFEMINA is now online, which I am very, very happy about. So the day has improved.
Somewhat.
Still. Technology scares me.
Today has been less hot.
It started off well - I used my GLORIOUS new coffee maker, which I love. But somehow, at lunch, while clearing up my machine, I managed to delete EVERY APPLICATION I HAD. Then I found out that simply buying the cover for an ibook doesn't actually give you cover - you have to "enroll" it.
Bugger.
Still, now fixed thanks to Jody at Apple, thank you very much indeed!
AND I am an internet-published author! My work for CEFEMINA is now online, which I am very, very happy about. So the day has improved.
Somewhat.
Still. Technology scares me.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
It Comes Before A Fall
I am wont to feeling pleased with myself. I can't help it. Despite the complete hideousness of astrology, I like to blame it on being a Leo. Laziness, failure to take responsibility, egotism - yes, you may accuse me of all these things and more, reasonably accurately.
However, today I have a very good reason to do so - I have a monster seventeen page document, in Spanish. My doing. We went through it this morning, and you know what? It wasn't too hideous, cringe inducing. Given that my Philosophy of Science supervisor used to sit and read aloud our essays, I know how to deal with the horrors of hearing your gauche, inaccurate (laziness again!) and horrible turns of phrase repeated genuinely ad nauseam. After the horrors of legal writing this year, experiencing more red pen than an insecure law student's psyche should have to deal with, I am accustomed to the corrections and while the pain of immense quantities of tracked changes on word continues to cause suffering, it's better than the scarlet biro.
Of course, there were several phrases where I thought, "ooh, that sounds great - I AM clever." Then I realised that the author... well, "No. Fui. Yo." (This is also the translation of Bart Simpson's most famous phrase, "It wasn't me".) Still, if I have achieved nothing else this summer, I can now lay claim to being able to write fairly well a legal document in Spanish. I am learning so so so much - I have already absorbed much more than I thought about a week ago when I started panicking over what on earth I was going to write. WOWSER.
I think my mother was telling me off in my dream last night in Spanish. Not bad - did you know you could do that, Mum? Well, you can.
And enjoy the pictures of the flores and dragonfly (libélula en español) from Mayela & Ricardo's garden in Punta Morales. Yes, Lianne, owe the plant porn idea to you. However, I do find the flora here incredibly interesting - everything is so bright. At the UCR there is an incredible, convulvulus type plant, which isn't covered with white flowers but RED ones. Extraordinary.
Going to do myspace updates, by the way, so please check out the stupefying embarrassment as I try to do "yoof" there.
However, today I have a very good reason to do so - I have a monster seventeen page document, in Spanish. My doing. We went through it this morning, and you know what? It wasn't too hideous, cringe inducing. Given that my Philosophy of Science supervisor used to sit and read aloud our essays, I know how to deal with the horrors of hearing your gauche, inaccurate (laziness again!) and horrible turns of phrase repeated genuinely ad nauseam. After the horrors of legal writing this year, experiencing more red pen than an insecure law student's psyche should have to deal with, I am accustomed to the corrections and while the pain of immense quantities of tracked changes on word continues to cause suffering, it's better than the scarlet biro.
Of course, there were several phrases where I thought, "ooh, that sounds great - I AM clever." Then I realised that the author... well, "No. Fui. Yo." (This is also the translation of Bart Simpson's most famous phrase, "It wasn't me".) Still, if I have achieved nothing else this summer, I can now lay claim to being able to write fairly well a legal document in Spanish. I am learning so so so much - I have already absorbed much more than I thought about a week ago when I started panicking over what on earth I was going to write. WOWSER.
I think my mother was telling me off in my dream last night in Spanish. Not bad - did you know you could do that, Mum? Well, you can.
And enjoy the pictures of the flores and dragonfly (libélula en español) from Mayela & Ricardo's garden in Punta Morales. Yes, Lianne, owe the plant porn idea to you. However, I do find the flora here incredibly interesting - everything is so bright. At the UCR there is an incredible, convulvulus type plant, which isn't covered with white flowers but RED ones. Extraordinary.
Going to do myspace updates, by the way, so please check out the stupefying embarrassment as I try to do "yoof" there.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Lo vencí, el demonio
Warning: Just in case some of you, somehow, think of me as an eloquent, articulate and genteel sort of lass, there may be language ahead to shock you.Last night, as I was preparing some lists of stuff for M and I to do next week and what vittels and essentials from the US of A I wanted brought, I started thinking about how to sum up my time here.
You know, what's the silliest thing someone has tried to sell me on the street? TV antennas. He had two.
How fast do Costa Rican people walk? Maybe 2.5 mph if you're lucky. No wonder they all look so surprised when you say you're going to walk somewhere, because what takes me 20 minutes probably takes them 45. If they're going for it.
This, however, is what I ended up writing:
What M and I should do:
Monteverde – nature
Volcano? Arenal, Poas?
Buceo – Playa de Coco, Boca del Toro?
HOLY FUCK GIANT COCKROACH. BUT GINORMOUS. WHAT TO DO? STAY PARALYSED HERE, APPARENTLY, UNABLE TO MOVE. MAYBE IT WILL ELECTROCUTE ITSELF ON THE TV. NO, NO SUCH LUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK. BICHOS GAIN ANOTHER VICTORY. NOWHERE NEAR THE SIZE OF THE LIZARD and yet I am TERRIFIED AND COMPLETELY DISGUSTED.
[And so on. This went on, intermittently, for what felt like several hours.]
Huge tactical error in going to find broom. First, because couldn’t find broom. Second, because roach has disappeared and now I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep until I see it again. Disgusting, disgusting horrible thing. Why couldn’t it be a lizard? Where did it go? Do I want to find it? And trust it on the day where I thought I’d sleep due to having bloody earplugs. Little did I know. Fucker fucker fucker fucker. Just seen it over by the chair. I may never sit there again. Fucker. Disgusting little thing. Ugh ugh ugh. Want it out of my room. OUT.
It has now retreated because I couldn’t kill it. And now I will worry about it scuttling around, Will stay up for a while and try to kill it. Now I am firm – while I hate the thought of killing it, the thought of it scuttling around just ready to get me - I don’t know what, but that makes the idea of killing it much, much more appealing.
Finally, however, I saw it trying to get in at the coving at the top of the room. It couldn't manage it and I was grateful I had moved the bed away from the wall. Anyhoo, it finally found a corner where it could get up into the coving and hide (and it was hiding from me, as I'd been chasing it round with paper because Mayela had moved the broom but I didn't want to kill it). Ingeniously, I then stuffed a small plastic bag to cover the hole into which it had disappeared so that it couldn't get back down. Then I put my trainer over the hole in the floor from where it may, possibly, have come.
And that's what I did last night.
This morning, I then saw a dead one on entering our office. They are tormenting me.
Still, found a website, Hollaback NYC, that should be good, but I fear moaning about leering is not going to cause much of a shock, and these women keep reporting saying nothing - the point of HollaBACK is that you, well, hollaBACK. However, this was utter, utter genius: read and learn, ladies. Plus, this website has a somewhat more mature approach, perhaps, where you can vent your rage and there are some good tips for technique. That's what always gets me - what to say that isn't raging and swearing? Now I have an idea. Which I may have to put into practice next time it happens to me.
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