Things I Am Currently Obsessed With

I've been Debbie Downer on this blog a lot lately. Possibly because I'm one lost hour of sleep away from a nervous breakdown on most days. BUT I do have things (besides sleep) that keep me from that nervous breakdown which I thought I would tell everyone about. Because I can. And because it is abnormally slow at work today (knock on wood) and there isn't much I have to be doing right now. So, here are my random, yet happy-making, current obsessions.

• Ray LaMontagne - I love this man's voice. If you haven't heard him (which, hello, I'm always late to the music party, so you probably know him) I suggest you leave this page now and go listen to him on your choice of music providers. I find his voice extremely soothing; his is the go-to albums after a long day at work. Which means I listen to him pretty much every day. Songs I recommend: "Trouble," "Shelter," "Hold You in My Arms," "Hannah," "All the Wild Horses," "Let it Be Me," "You Are the Best Thing," and "Achin' All the Time." Just to start off with.

• Essie nail polish - I love the range of colors Essie has, specifically in the blue-green and red-orange spectrums. Also, the names are fun and the bottles are compact and aesthetically pleasing. The best part, however, is that the polish is thin and spreads really easily. It is not gloopy at all. Sure, it means an extra coat, but because it is thin and non-gloopy, it dries quickly. With a base coat and a top coat, my home-done pedicures last at least a week without touch-ups. A few touch-ups stretches that to two or three weeks. Which is fantastic, since I don't have time these days for doing weekly pedicures.

• Old Navy's plaid or gingham camp shirts - I apologize for sounding like a massive advertisement, however, I tried one of these on last week, loved it but put it back because I couldn't justify buying a shirt. Then I obsessed about it for a day or two and went back and bought one (the white with small red/blue/purple plaid). I received many compliments on it, plus it was just so comfortable. It was cut perfectly, with just a little nip at the waist to provide shape, but not too much so I felt like I should be wearing a corset with it. The bonus was I thought it was only a 3/4 length sleeve that had been rolled up, but it is long sleeve, which means it will be perfect for layering in the winter. So I went back and bought three more in different colors.

• Mystery novels set in Britain in the past - These are my brain-break books. When I need to check out, I will happily escape to the rarified (yet oddly dangerous) estates, manor houses, and small villages of England of the 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. Agatha Christie is obviously a fave, however, I also recommend the Lord Peter Whimsey series by Dorothy L. Sayers and the Flavia De Luce series by Alan Bradley. I recently found a new series, the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple series by Carola Dunn. I read the first book Thursday night and enjoyed it. Imagine Agatha Christie's Miss Marple as a young 25 year-old impoverished aristocrat (complete with tragic tale of a brother AND a true love killed in WWI) working as a society writer traveling amongst characters culled from P.G. Wodehouse and Dorothy L. Sayers novels. It makes me wish I were British and could say things like "topping," "spiffing," "old thing," and "cheerio."

• Beets, edamame, and chickpeas in salads - I'm semi-successfully trying to improve my eating habits, specifically eating more vegetables and less non-vegetables, especially meat. If I had the means I would spend every lunch hour eating from the salad bar at a local grocery, because they offer fantastic things like beets, edamame, and chickpeas that make a salad tasty make dressings unnecessary. I've had to use frozen and/or canned versions of them to make my own, as it is far, far cheaper. Plus, it adds some heft to the salad. Add some crushed walnuts or sunflower seeds and you have got yourself a delicious and filling salad.

• Costume jewelry, specifically huge cocktail rings - For some reason I enjoy wearing a massive ring. It gives me a sense of power for some reason. Try it - they are just fun, plus they are a trend right now so you can find them for under $10 in most clothing stores.

• Doctor Who t-shirts from teefury.com - Teefury offers t-shirts loaded with pop culture-y goodness with a large helping of geek. The catch of the website is you only have 24 hours to order, then they print and ship. I've missed some fun ones, which are saved as bittersweet reminders in the gallery, but I also have a growing collection that I rarely have the opportunity to wear. But who can turn down a $10 t-shirt?

• Finding surprises for my nieces and soon-to-be-born nephew - I love being able to spoil them and since their birthdays (and births) are all happening in the next few months, I get to spoil them rotten! Also, how can I resist buying superhero onesies when I find them at Old Navy? Start the geekifying young!

• Adding the color orange to my wardrobe - After years (possibly decades? Am I really that old?) of dying my hair a dark auburn, I let it go back to something resembling my natural color. I think. It has been a while. Anyway, now that my hair is not auburn, I have found I can actually wear colors in the red-orange/orange/coral family. Which is fabulous. I love the color, especially paired with turquoise or green-blue. I have been adding quite a bit of it to my wardrobe recently. Dresses, shirts, tanks, anything really. I'm now on the hunt for orange shoes because I want to recreate this look Obviously also in the hunt for a similar dress, but that really has nothing to do with anything.

• Tall, skinny, British men who act - This isn't necessarily a new obsession (see: Tenant, David and  Grant, Cary) but I've found some new ones to obsess over. Also, it isn't necessarily the fact they are actors that is part of the obsession, but they are the only tall, skinny British men to whom I am exposed, seeing as how I still haven't found a way to move to England. The latest additions to this sub-genre of the Fantasy Boyfriend League are Benedict Cumberbatch (who has, perhaps, the best English name ever!) and Tom Hiddleston. Benedict Cumberbatch is best known for being Sherlock Holmes in the BBC series. Also, he has a dreamy voice. IF you don't believe me, listen to this. Mr. Cumberbatch will next be heard as the voice of Smaug in The Hobbit in December and the villain in Star Trek next summer. Tom Hiddleston is best known for his role as Loki in last year's Thor and the record-breaking blockbuster that is The Avengers. He also played F. Scott Fitzgerald in Midnight in Paris (which you need to see if you haven't already - the movie is genius.) Mr. Hiddleston is currently working on adaptations of Henry IV (parts 1 and 2) and Henry V, which should be on British TV for the build up to 450th anniversary of Shakespeare's birth in 2014. Hopefully it will cross the pond shortly thereafter. He will also be part of Thor 2, which was announced recently. I can understand that if you are not attracted by men who are slightly (or more-than-slightly) unhinged and your only exposure to him is as Loki, you might not get my new obsession with Mr. Hiddleston. To which I say, do a Google image search of recent photo shoots and photo calls for The Avengers. You can thank me later.

Obsessions and Overthinking

As you may have noticed from the massive quote on my sidebar, I have been reading Alexander McCall Smith. I started reading The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency in February as a way to pass the time. I loved the unfamiliar setting (Botswana) and the wonderfully drawn Precious Ramotswe, the first lady detective in Botswana's capital city. I plowed through the first three books in the series in a matter of weeks (the fourth is on my floor waiting to be started), finding them at a fantastic local used bookshop. In addition to the endearing characters and fascinating setting, I was drawn to McCall Smith's writing. Despite being a detective and dealing with some of the ugly sides of the human experience, there is something so joyful and enjoyable about Mma Ramotswe and her life. I wanted to read more of McCall's writing, so I picked up The Sunday Philosophy Club at my public library. While this series is set a continent away in Edinburgh, Scotland and focuses on a privileged philosopher and editor of the Review of Applied Ethics who gets involved in solving others' problems and mysteries out of a sense of what she calls 'moral obligation, the same spirit inhabited the books. As I was reading, I finally found the adjective to describe McCall Smith's writing: gentle. 

What I love about these books is the consideration and gentleness with which McCall Smith treats his characters and their lives. Even though the two women that lead the two series are often dealing with humanity's individual and collective faults, frailties, and foibles, the ugliness is not passed onto the reader. In most of the cases, the characters involved are treated with respect, compassion, and the recognition that no one is perfect and everyone messes up. To give forgiveness to others is a duty because the main characters (and we the readers) need it too. I feel this is missing from the majority of modern fiction and life in general. Like the quote on the sidebar states, we have lost something as a society. We are assertive, aggressive, and constantly in one another's face. That takes its toll. If we could remember kindness, compassion, understanding, and forgiveness we could all benefit. I love that his writing reflects that in such a subtle and un-didactic way.

While I relish The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series for transporting me to a far-off land and a life completely different from my own, I derive a much deeper pleasure from The Sunday Philosophy Club series and its heroine, Isabel Dalhousie. In Isabel I feel I have found a kindred spirit. A reserved woman who overthinks everything and, under the weight of her sense of moral obligation, feels an enormous amount of self-doubt and guilt. She is imperfect, self-sacrificing to a fault, prone to long inner monologues about what is the right way to act, and long inner debates over the discrepancy between what she wants to do and what she should do. Because of this she tends to not say what she feels and do what is best for others. This is how she ends up shouldering the burden of others' problems. Additionally, she has the endearing habit of exploring topics thoroughly, long after her conversational partners have tired of the subject. And she has a flair for making random and difficult-to-follow connections that lead to charming, if confusing, non sequiturs. While I'm not in my early forties nor in love with a man a decade younger than myself who is also my niece's ex-boyfriend (my niece is not nearly old enough for such things, nor will she be when I am 42. Thankfully), I do recognize the overthinking, the self-doubt, the guilt, the inner monologues and dialogues, the cluttered conversing, and the unspoken want for the wrong person (even if he is quite fantastic in his own way). It is rare for me to find such a kindred spirit in books. There are always things I can relate to in my favorite books, but I don't usually find such integral things that we have in common. The only other two I can think of right now are Elinor Dashwood and Anne Elliot who, while wonderful, are over two centuries old. I could use a modern compatriot. 

The Review I Promised On Facebook, Even Though A Lot Of It Is About Me

Often reviews become more about the reviewer than about what is being reviewed, possibly because a review is based in the individual’s response to the work. This review of The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance by Elna Baker is one of those. I can’t find a way to separate my thoughts about the book from my thoughts about me. So I apologize in advance, since I’m sure you came looking for my opinions about the book and are probably going to end up with a long, self-referential collection of random thoughts.

First and foremost, Ms. Baker is an excellent storyteller. If you haven’t heard them before, go straight to her website and listen to “The Fortune Cookie Story” and “Babies Buying Babies.” The former had me laughing so hard I cried and I fully intend on making my future students read and/or listen to the latter. In fact, I think every person in the United States should read/listen to “Babies Buying Babies” but I won’t tell you why, since that would kind of ruin the impact of the story. Anyway, storytelling is one of Ms. Baker’s strengths and it is apparent in her memoir. She weaves together past and present, childhood and adulthood together quite effectively. She engages the reader (i.e. me) with a voice that is simultaneously familiar and unique. If you are looking for a collection of well-crafted stories, you’ll enjoy this book.

I enjoyed this book, but it also made me a little uneasy. It took me a while to pinpoint the source, partly because I always experience a bit of general discomfort when reading memoirs – in the entering and exploring of a different life and way of thinking. More than that, however, was the fact that she was discussing our shared religion very openly and frankly on a national stage. I am a little sensitive about the pressure that comes with being part of the LDS faith. Not overly sensitive – I generally dismiss pop culture references and actually liked the storyline with the LDS character on House (although I sincerely wish that writers would do actual research about the religion and the Church before writing). But I do have issues with individuals who talk about being LDS and then act in a way that is completely opposite to the doctrines of the religion, like that girl on The Real World lo those many years ago (was it really 10? How time flies!). Ms. Baker’s memoir falls somewhere in between. I can respect that someone struggles with his or her faith and with aspects of a religion’s cultural traditions that can, at times, seem oppressive. But I also can’t deny there isn’t a part of me that wishes Ms. Baker hadn’t been quite so open and frank about her struggle. Obviously I don’t want to promote a false image of perfection or mindless compliance, but there is that moment of cringing every so often when I think about how a reader unfamiliar with our religion and faith will interpret what he or she is reading. Mostly because I don’t know how I’m interpreting what I’m reading. There is plenty to consider in Ms. Baker’s book, but here is what struck me the most.

I Should Be Paying Attention In Class But

I had to share this awesome link from Romancing the Tome. Gave me a giggle!

Hibernation

I turned my last paper in on December 11th, somewhere around 1:30 pm. And subsequently had nothing to do. I still had a few things on my calendar, like a department Christmas party and a friend's birthday, and two more tutoring sessions at the middle school. But nothing supremely solid and nothing that required anything resembling preparation other than putting on varying amounts of makeup. Then the snow hit. While it was snowing the wind blew a bit and made it a little treacherous, but once the actual snowing and wind-blowing stopped, there was only an inch or two on the ground. Completely innocuous by Eastern Washington and Utah standards, but enough to cause people here to cancel church and start school on a delay two days after it stopped snowing. The delay meant no tutoring. It also meant I spent the day watching the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice with my friend the birthday girl and a subsequent sunny and snow-free day finishing Christmas shopping. This subsequent day brought bad news in the form of my dad's Christmas vacation being cancelled due to some work crises and the recent death of my aunt's sister-in-law. The first bit of bad news meant I was feeling sorry for myself about the nomadic, mostly solo, Christmas vacation I would be spending and the second bit made me feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself.

Wednesday brought real snow. The kind of snow that would find me housebound in Utah, let alone in a place so unused to 6 inches of snow. I realized that maybe the SUV with chains I had laughed at on Monday was driven by someone prescient instead of paranoid. It also meant that my second tutoring session was cancelled and that I would really have nothing to do other than finish wrapping and shipping Christmas presents. So, dear friends who receive packages from UPS on Monday, know that I risked life and limb in really bad weather to drive amongst lots of people who have little experience with such weather to get to the UPS Store to ensure you had surprises by Christmas. Not that I want you to feel guilty. Just appreciative.

Anyway, I was housebound. I decided to see if my theory that hibernation would be awesome was actually true. I slept in until truly obscene hours and then spent even longer lounging in bed doing nothing until my stomach told me it needed food, STAT. I only put on jeans to run outside and check the mail, justifying the return to pajama pants with the discomfort of jeans becoming wet with melting snow. I watched hours of TV and movies, mostly on my laptop. I caught up on my favorite shows, which took less time than expected because most everything went on hiatus at Thanksgiving. I watched two new episodes of Pushing Daisies and got all enraged (again) at it being cancelled when truly awful shows with similarly poor ratings remain on the schedule. But after two days of doing nothing, all that rage felt uncomfortable. Like the jeans I forced myself to wear for a couple of hours (or minutes) before returning to my pajama pants. So I stopped mentally drafting a blog post/open letter to ABC. It took too much energy. I watched Jane Eyre for the upteenth time and the watched a 1996 adaptation of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I noticed that BBC adaptations are not immune to the Hollywood double standard that applies to women and men older than 30. Toby Stephens is the dead sexy romantic lead in both Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Tara Fitzgerald, who plays the lovely leading lady in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall plays old, evil, and dying Mrs. Reed in Jane Eyre, though there is only a decade between the two adaptations. And she wasn't yet 40 when Jane Eyre was filmed. Still, took too much energy to get all riled up about it.

My eating habits totally changed as well. I ate something after finally dragging myself out of bed, which could technically be called breakfast but usually to occurred to late to even qualify as brunch. After that, I might nibble on something when I walked past the kitchen on my way to the loo, but really only ate something resembling a meal, usually soup and toast after 7 or 8 pm. Other than that my only caloric intake was through sipping the 8 oz. of Coke&Lime allow myself to have in a day. The scale is registering a weight loss, but I don't really feel I have denied myself anything. Especially considering most hours of the day, waking or sleeping, during my hibernation has been spent on my bed under a pile of blankets. There is a new, me-sized, dent created on one side of my bed. I did venture out yesterday for necessities like toilet paper and milk, but the half hour I spent trying to get out of the Fred Meyer parking lot (because everyone and their Aunt Fanny was doing the same thing, usually in cars with tires not suited to snow that ended up stalling and/or sliding back down the inclined exit) convinced me to go back into hibernation. I also went to Target this morning, but only because they are forecasting another storm and I was up early because I had just cancelled plans to spend the day with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece in Seattle due to said winter storm warning. I was home by 9:30 am.

After 3 days of watching various dead sexy Brits in BBC adaptations, catching up on TV shows (and related TVboyfriends) and breezing through the first season of Supernatural on DVD (which only added to my conviction that Dean Winchester is one of the hottest TVboyfriends on the planet and also made me wonder if I needed to make an appointment to speak with my Bishop, even though I haven't done anything more than repeatedly think "Dean Winchester is wicked hot. And little Sammy isn't far behind him." and possibly fast forward through any part of the episodes that doesn't contain a Winchester in it, especially Dean) and one aborted attempt to watch Under the Greenwood Tree (Netflix's Watch Instantly program and my internet were not getting along. It took me an hour to watch 35 minutes of the movie) I decided to crack open a book. I am now halfway through The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World, which I highly recommend, for it is both funny and thought-provoking. And a great way to travel without getting out from under warm blankets.

It is supposed to start snowing at some point tonight, which means church might again be cancelled and my hibernation can continue uninterrupted. There is a weird sort of timelessness that has come over me. Since I don't leave my apartment, day and night don't really matter. I wake up to find I turned off my alarm and it is nearly noon. Conversely I realize I'm hungry and finally eat dinner at 9:30. I shower at 11 o'clock at night because I can. I finish watching The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and discover it is nearly 3 o'clock in the morning. Time passes at different speeds depending on what I'm doing. The 5 minutes it takes for Netflix to adjust its streaming to my internet speed seems prohibitively, obnoxiously long, but the 5 hours I spend staring at my laptop, simultaneously aimlessly surfing, watching TV, and chatting with friends, passes in a blink of an eye. In some ways it is the most boring 4 days of my life. In others the most relaxing, freeing time I have spent. It has been a busy and stressful few months, on top of a couple of hard, stressful, miserable couple of years. I kind of don't want to stop hibernating. But perhaps it is better to stop while I am still enjoying it. I'm sure at some point this sort of existence would become insupportable. But until then, I have some Doctor Who and Inspector Lynley DVDs that came from Netflix today calling my name. I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

To Tide You All Over

Because in my head I have legions of lurking readers.  Anyway, I know I have been very lax in blogging of late, but I swear I have been busy.  Plus, I have stories to tell, should I ever have more than 15 minutes to blog.  But for now I will do a fun little meme I found on a blog I occasionally read and recently, due to a very slow work schedule, caught up on.  First the rules:

1. Grab the nearest book. If you are currently reading something, that'll be fine too.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your Blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet I know that is what you were thinking!
6. Tag 5 people.

On the floor by my bed was the book I'm currently reading for book club, The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield.  I've read the first 25 pages and am looking forward to reading the rest.  For now, here is pg. 123, sentences 5 through 8:

A fabulist. A liar. And the plea that had so moved me -- Tell me the truth -- had been uttered by a man who was not even real.

I was at a loss to explain to myself the bitterness of my disappointment.

I tag the following, although anyone who wants to should totally participate:

1. Parker @ TheCentre
2. Esperanza @ EsperanzaK2
3. Treat Queen @ Crazie Place
4. Aquamarine @ A Deep Blue Sea
5. Katie @ Trivial Smorgasbord

I promise to be back soon, hopefully this weekend.  Now I must be off to take the cookies I'm baking for the YW Book of Mormon read-a-thon that is happening tonight out of the oven.  

Andrew Davies Can Bite Me

There are no words for the level of HATE I feel towards his new adaptation of A Room with a View.  In fact, I am so blinded with rage that I can't verbalize anything.  A Room with a View is one of my top 5 favorite novels and he desecrated it.  I realize I should just let it go, but I can't. I'm sure I'm overreacting, but when one of the best lines from the novel, one that signifies the whole theme of the novel, is left out of the adaptation for no apparent reason, how can it be a true adaptation?

"Leave them alone," Mr. Emerson begged the chaplain, of whom he stood in no awe. "Do we find happiness so often that we should turn it off the box when it happens to sit there? To be driven by lovers-- A king might envy us, and if we part them it's more like sacrilege than anything I know."

Now I have to go buy the 1985 adaptation with Helena Bonham-Carter, Dames Maggie Smith and Judi Dench, Daniel Day-Lewis, and Julian Sands to scrub this atrocity out of my head. Especially the part about George dying in WWI.

Sense & Sensibility: The Wrap-up

I liked this adaptation, I really did.  It was, in a sense, truer to the book as it incorporated more characters and situations from the actual book. All the actors acquited themselves well and even poor Willoughby (Dominic Cooper) couldn't help the fact that I don't find him dashing enough to sweep anyone off their feet. And they developed the pre-Willoughby Marianne/Brandon relationship much better in this new adaptation, so the eventual pairing didn't seem quite so out of the blue.  But I must be honest.  My heart belongs to the Emma Thompson/Ang Lee version.  It may leave a lot out, but I think it captures the heart of the story so very well.  A lot of the credit should go to the amazing cast of the 1995 version.  Even the bit parts, like the Palmers and poor, dead Mr. Dashwood, are household names (at least for the Sumptious Literaray Adaptation* lover).  Lest any of you have forgotten, here are some members of the cast:

Emma Thompson              

Kate Winslet                     

Alan Rickman                   

Tom Wilkinson               

Imelda Staunton 

Hugh Laurie 

Imogen Stubbs 

Hugh Grant

I know, right?  When the (possibly) weak link in the show is Hugh Grant, and I can't even really say he is the weak link, as Edward is written to be somewhat incapable of making good first (and even second) impressions and this was the film that got me on the path from loathing Hugh Grant to enjoying his work.  (About A Boy was the film that really made me pay better attention.  However, he still acts like a 20 year-old frat boy, which keeps him from any sort of permanent FBL status).  This Edward was just one iota too socially adept for me.  Marianne's inability to comprehend why anyone would like him is one of those 'told not shown' things. I absolutely adore Imogen Stubbs's incarnation of Lucy Steele.  She telegraphed exactly why Edward Ferrars would have engaged himself to her at 19 years of age and exactly why he could hardly bear it four years later.  She was the perfect villian, whereas the new Lucy Steele seemed out of her depth.  I couldn't quite believe her capable of ensnaring Robert Ferrars, as stupid as he was.  And no one can compete with Greg Wise, so why even try, really.  Same with Emma Thompson (who inhabits the role so well, you kind of forget she is about 15 years too old to be Elinor) and Kate Winslet (whose skin is so unnaturally white during the film, you can totally believe she would get sick after a hike in the rain).  But I did like this one, and unlike most of the other new adaptations from the Austen-a-thon, I will probably add it to my collection.  I'm sad to bid the Austen-a-thon farewell.  And I'm not at all sure how I feel about the new adaptation of A Room with a View.  How can anyone improve on the previous one?  It had Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, Helena Bonham-Carter, Daniel Day-Lewis and Julian Sands (am I forgetting anyone?)!  But whatever I end up thinking about it, I'll be sure to share it with you all.

*TM Miss Nemesis

Sense & Sensibility

We're trying something new tonight while watching Masterpiece's presentation of Sense & Sensibility. Writing the post while watching! Three 'Huzzahs!' for lovely new laptops! First of all, I must note that Emma Thompson's 1995 adaptation is second only to  the 1995 Persuasion in my list of Most Beloved Austen Adaptations. It is even more beloved than Pride & Prejudice. I know, Blasphemy!, but chalk it up to me being Elinor Dashwood, just like the internet said. Therefore, Mr. Davies is really going to need to bring it tonight if he wants my approval. Because it is going to be difficult to top the Emma Thompson/Alan Rickman/Kate Winslet/Hugh Laurie combo (I know Hugh Laurie is only in, like, four scenes, but he makes them awesome. And he gets retroactive House love).

All that being said, on with the show.

Oh, Gillian, I can't wait to see you back to your regular scheduled Scully-ness.

Um, what the crap!?! Willoughby shouldn't open the story! Your not supposed to know he is a morally reprehensible cad until later. Did I mention I was watching this with my father, Mr. Davies?

Did the Regency era people really kit themselves out like Victorians in mourning?

Is this Elinor trying to sound like Emma Thompson or do they just have smiliar accents?

What is going on with Fanny's hair? Are the curls taped down?

Well, Edward has the appropriate smiling eyes and floppy hair. Rather like Hugh Grant's younger brother or nephew or something.  (Some superficial research at IMDB reveals that this actor played Lord Holmwood in the catastrophe that was the most recent adaptation of Dracula and was born 6 months after my younger brother.  I am old.)

 

Question: Whatever became of the little girl that played Margaret in the previous adaptation? She was rather likable. Much like this one.

Could Fanny ever look like she isn't sucking on a lemon?

I like Mrs. Dashwood - "You are not yet 17, I would not despair of finding a true love." Hee.

I honestly cannot wait to see this Fanny go all screaming banshee on Lucy Steele.  Seriously my favorite part of the book and adaptation.

Wow, Edward is heart-breaking while saying things that would otherwise make him seem a total tool. What a good actor.

Why do they always make the buffonish characters like John Dashwood red-heads. It is an insult to our kind.

Ah, he gave her flowers. Only ones that a) wouldn't die and 2) she could draw. What a thoughtful man.

I want a cottage by the sea. Even if it is a fraction of the size of Norland.

How awful it would be to be dependent on servants and not even know if you could light a fire or not.

Is that Mr. Headstone from Our Mutual Friend as Col. Brandon!?! I don't know how to feel about that. Like, at all. He was such a frightening psychostalker in Our Mutual Friend. maybe he can acquit himself in this.

This one does do a better job of setting up the eventual union of Marianne and Col. Brandon. They do establish some footing of friendship.

Ok, favorite line thus far: "She'll bear him some big, fine sons." Said just like half the old ladies in Relief Society.

How awkward to have to entertain for two hours and not have anything to say.

Well, that was a much more precipitous fall than Kate Winslet endured. Off a cliff for heaven's sake.

Margaret's goldfish beg the question: What did they feed goldfish before they created freeze-dried flakes?

Willoughby resembles a hobbit. Not nearly so dashing as the previous incarnation.

Seriously, if I'm not looking at the TV, I would swear it is Emma Thompson as Elinor.

Poor, poor Col. Brandon. Oh, Willoughby is a coward to stand behind Mrs. Dashwood. And how the musical swells ominously! Even if I didn't know it already, it would tell me Willoughby must be a cad.

So, curly hair = free spirit, straight = practical, and Margaret falls somewhere in between. I wonder if that was in the notes for the casting directors.

I must say that the confrontation between Col. Brandon and Willoughby is rather ridiculous. Especially considering that Willoughby is such a people-pleaser that he tries to pull the wool over EVERYONE'S eyes, including Col. Brandon.

A horse? As a gift? What is going on with this show. Maybe I need to re-read the book. But I very much don't remember the gift of a horse.

Sir Middleton brings up an interesting point. If Willoughby had not have been a cad and Marianne had married him and Edward had not been dumped by Lucy Steele, would Elinor and Col. Brandon have eventually wed or would they have remained platonic friends for the rest of their days. I imagine that in subsequent years they would have eventually have married and had an agreeable marriage. They wouldn't have been in love, but they would have had some semblance of happiness. What do you think?

Oh dear, here is Col. Brandon's very bad news. I do dislike this Willoughby. Greg Wise made him seem a modicum less smarmy in the previous adaptation. Here he just seems very ill-mannered.

Oh, Marianne, the conventions are what keep you safe from snakes like Willoughby. Only the snakes ask you to defy conventions. Also - NOT IN THE BOOK! Just the curricle ride is scandalous enough, Mr. Davies. You do NOT need to sex Austen up. The story is fine without it. I hate it when people modernize stories like that. If a story takes place in a certain era, then let it stay within the confines of said story and said era. I had the same problem with the most recent adaptation of Jane Eyre. Jane would never have allowed herself to be alone in her bed chamber with Mr. Rochester, let alone horizontal on the bed. While I think Marianne would be enough of a free spirit to allow Willoughby to take a lock of hair, I think she would be rather hesitant to go unchaperoned to his aunt's home and even more hesitant to be kissed by him.

Wow, nice blocking with Willoughby's body language when approached by Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor. On the defensive much?

Poor Margaret, always forming attachments with her sister's non-suitors and having to watch them disappear over the horizon. I do miss the bit about the atlas. It was such a lovely way for Edward and Margaret to connect. 

WHAT! This is a two-parter? I can't wait until next week. How dare you, PBS!

At Last, Another Fix

So the long dearth of PBS fundraising is over (I shouldn't complain as I never donate and am thus a freeloader, but whatever my intentions I end up spending my money on other things, like cute handbags by Isaac Mizrahi) and the Masterpiece Austen-a-thon has returned. I have never actually seen the BBC version of Emma with Kate Beckinsale. I am rather partial to the other 1996 version of Emma starring Gwyneth Paltrow (during her "I swear I'm NOT British" phase) but mostly due to Jeremy Northam. And I couldn't help but make comparisons between the two.

I do very much think the BBC miniseries suffers from a lack of Jeremy Northam. He is perfect as Mr. Knightley. Also, he is dreamy. But I also missed the presence of Sophie Thompson as Miss Bates and Juliet Stevenson as Mrs. Elton. They both had such positively wonderful deliveries of some of the best lines in the book. The actors in the BBC version were good, but I thought there was just a little less sparkle. It is quite possible that I am wrong and simply showing my bias towards the US film version.

I did, however, love the opening and closing of the show with the chicken thieves. What an analogy for poor Mr. Woodhouse. All these young men coming to steal his women out from under him. First John Knightley takes Isabella away, then Mr. Weston takes Miss Taylor, and finally his dear friend Mr. Knightley steals his last solace, his daughter Emma, right out from under him. Poor man. What a witty use of the theme by the BBC team. I also liked Olivia Williams as Jane Fairfax. She seemed more emotive than the Jane Fairfax in the US film version. Perhaps it is because they included her scenes from the strawberry-picking outing and the word game, but she seemed more human and less passive than the US film would lead you to believe.

And finally, although it is possibly in bad taste, I must say that Kate Beckinsale has done something to her face. It isn't that she is unrecognizable from then to now, but it is as if the shape of her face has changed. Do you think it was dental work? I can't put my finger on it, but it is different. Maybe someone out there can point me in the right direction.

I hope you all enjoyed the return of the Austen-a-thon. Next up: a new version of Sense & Sensibility. I have an open mind, but I do think it will suffer from a lack of Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson. As most films do.

Austenland Part II

I generally assume everybody's opinion is more valid than my own, so after posting my last entry, I decided to re-read Austenland, just to make sure I was right about how ludicrous Mountain Mama's complaint about the book was. And I was right. There is exactly one mention of the word 'groin' in the book. And, as BlackJazz pointed out in is comment on the last entry, 'groin' is used medically to describe an area under the pelvis that can be injured or pulled. An injury that can occur in athletes of either sex. Which makes 'groin' the least offensive term Ms. Hale could have used to describe the scene. And I will stop harping on it now.

Mountain Mama's other complaint, that the writing wasn't consistent, is much, much less ludicrous. During my second reading, in which I could spend more time paying attention to details, I noticed that the name of the beneficient aunt was alternately spelled Carolyn/Caroline throughout the book. A good editor should have noticed that. There is only one character in the book with that name and it should have had the same spelling each and every time it was used. I would assume that the manuscript was read by its editor at least twice and if I -- still fairly doped up on decongestants and cough medicine -- noticed it, he or she should have noticed. Also, there are instances where the grammar completely changes. This is acceptable in scenes in which individuals are valiantly trying to mimic the speech patterns of Regency England, but it is not acceptable in the middle of the heroine's internal monologue. It takes the reader out of the book.

With all those nitpicks intact, I still really like the book. There are moments of truth in the story that are very relatable. Who hasn't, at one time or another, wanted to announce to roommates, Family Home Evening groups, or the universe in general, "I refuse to be Fanny Price." Who hasn't realized that her obssession with Mr. Darcy/Thornton/Rochester/Wentworth/
Hornblower just might be getting in the way of her real life? Who hasn't succumbed to the ephemeral delights of FantasyLand? I have spent a lot of time traipsing around FantasyLand these past few years. When life is hard it is easy to want to escape, part of what this novel is wrestling with is whether that doesn't make life harder. Obviously, in the grand tradition of Austen, the heroine gets the (right) guy, which just feeds into the fantasy. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

This Is Not An Overreaction

I think I'm dying. I may sound like I only have the sniffles or slight congestion, but I'm dying. Seriously, walking from my bed to the kitchen wipes me out. I'm not coughing, how could I hurt this much? Anyway, I had mentally composed a book review of Austenland by Shannon Hale, but it has drowned in the mucus that is currently residing where my brain should be. Suffice it to say, I suggest you read the book, it is fun and the first "chick lit" (I hate that term.) that I have actively enjoyed. Sure it treads the same ground as those that have come before it and sure the main character is Bridget Jones's American cousin, but there are some fresh and new things about it AND nothing to warn about if you should recommend it to your mother. Despite what one reviewer on Amazon.com wrote:

1.0 out of 5 stars I find nothing to recommend it., August 20, 2007
By Mountain Mama "MM" - See all my reviews

I bought Austenland to read with my teenage daughter. It sounded so promising! But the writing wasn't consistent and I felt that the references to male genitalia were in very poor taste.

I could find only one reference to "male genitalia" and that is when the main character, out of necessity due to being drunkenly accosted, knees a man in the groin. IN THOSE EXACT WORDS. I cannot for the life of me figure out why the term 'groin' is any more obscene or indelicate, than, say, 'genitalia' but it appears that to Mountain Mama, it is. So consider yourselves warned. This book could be the ruin of your maidenly innocence.

I'm Just Glad I didn't Get Fanny Price.

Take the Quiz here!

The Withdrawl Is Always Fierce

I have mentioned previously that reading Jane Austen is the literary equivalent of crack. And I am full blown addict. I have been giddily watching the Masterpiece airing of the BBC adaptation of Pride & Prejudice. Honestly, how hard is it NOT to grin like a doofus while watching Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet awkwardly meet at Pemberly? It fills me with delight and false expectations to watch the story unfold. Delight because they are wonderful characters and false expectations because, well, the story is a fiction that feeds into one of the most elementary of female fantasies.

Why is it that I can revisit Pride & Prejudice, Persuasion, and Jane Eyre (and the rest of their kin by Austen, Bronte, Glaskell et al) in both their literary and film versions repeatedly? I find these three novels deeply satisfying in a way that is, perhaps, not completely healthy. They are, all three, stories of women who, while neither the great beauties nor wealthy heiresses of their worlds, inspire grand passions in strong, intelligent, desirable men. Despite not possessing the two things (great beauty and wealth) highly prized by society, these heriones completely enthrall the gentlemen in question. It is not just a passing fancy or a genial respect. The heroes of these novels determinedly face down class distinctions, familial and societal disapproval, and even eternal damnation, to earn and own their lady's love. That, my friends, is a strong fantasy indeed. I gave up on being a great beauty long ago and have no fortune to speak of, which makes the fairy-tale endings of these novels all the more alluring. I identify with Elizabeth Bennet and Jane Eyre and, most especially, Anne Elliot. And I'm looking for my Mr. Darcy, Mr. Rochester, or Captain Wentworth.

I am 29 years old and have never inspired a grand passion. I have had a creepy psychostalker or two, but that wasn't so much inspiring a grand passion as exciting an unbalanced psyche. I would think that at some point in the past ten years or so, some member of the male species would have seen something admirable enough in me to inspire a grand passion. But, alas, one has not. So I will content myself with living vicariously through the fictional experiences of the Elizabeth Bennetts and the Jane Eyres and the Anne Elliots and the Eleanor Dashwoods and the Emma Woodhouses and the Margaret Hales of the literary world until reality crashes in, yet again, and I have to face the real world.

Miss Austen Regrets

I find fictionalized biographies distasteful. I realize most biographical films have fictionalized moments, where the script hypothisizes what the characters most likely said. That I can forgive. What I cannot forgive is the total fabrication of details of events for which we only have skeletal outlines. This is why I avoided Becoming Jane last year. I have read enough biographers' tales of Miss Austen to know that whatever the film presented with be hypothetical to the extreme, much like playing Pin the Tale on the Donkey, only with a real person's life. From the reviews I read, I was not mistaken. Also, it was tantamount to treason to cast an American as Jane Austen. But I digress. All of this is to say that I faced tonight's Miss Austen Regrets with some trepidation. It said it was based on her letters and writings, but we all know Cassandra burnt most of those. So I was not prepared for how moving, poignant, and engaging this was.

I do hope you all watched this film. What struck me was how much hasn't changed, especially for those of us of the LDS faith. Granted, money is no longer such a sore spot in the equation. We can have a career and build up a 401k and make our own safety net, but as single women in a religiously orthodox culture, we face some the same stigmas thrown at Miss Austen throughout the film. Of the conversations with her niece, her brothers, her mother, all were of the hypothetical nature I dislike, but they felt real. The words might have come from a scriptwriter, but I don't doubt that at some point she faced all those conversations and more. Lest you think I'm being melodramatic, I will give a case in point:

Today in Young Women's (the LDS Church's program for girls between 12 and 18) the lesson was entitled "Preparing to Become an Eternal Companion" and the two major emphasises were on spiritual preparation and homemaking skills. I must compliment the woman who taught, as she did strive to make sure the girls understood that these skills were useful regardless of whether you marry or not, but that didn't mean I felt less of a fool during the lesson. Much like the conflict between Miss Austen and her niece Fanny, how am I to advise these girls on any of the lessons on marriage and family this year? In their adolescent minds, my single-ness undermines anything I might have to say on the subject.

Returning to the subject of career, how many of my single women readers have had it suggested to them that if they weren't so "career-oriented" they might happen upon a husband? How many have heard the words "not getting any younger" uttered in their presence, about them or, more likely, someone else in a similar situation? Does it occur to no one that building a future, a safety net, self-reliance, is what we have to do? We cannot stay at home and keep house for our mothers and fathers, just wishing and hoping that The One (if such a creature does, indeed, exist) to magically appear on our doorstep. We do not need to have the brilliance, grandeur, and wonder of wifehood and motherhood dictated to us repeatedly. We have seen it in the lives our friends who find happiness and joy in those roles. We have also seen the sorrow of ill-advised marriages, the pain of divorce, and the misery of choosing poorly.

The sum of this ranting is to say that I loved Miss Austen Regrets. It struck a chord with me. Maybe the reason I love her works so much is that I believe I sense a kindred spirit. Her books are about women fighting their own faults and the judgements and follies of others to make their right choice, to find their own happiness. Miss Austen walked a different path than the great majority of her peers; maybe she regretted it, maybe not. But her enduring legacy is that she did it bravely.

Mansfield Park

I mentioned last week that I looked forward to seeing what ITV had done with Mansfield Park. The last adaptation, in 1999, leaped off the rails at one point and took a few too many liberties with the plot, liberties which changed the essence of the characters. That is a cardinal sin in my book. Additionally, the first time I read Mansfield Park it seemed a death-march. I had to force myself to continue reading it, something I had never had to do with an Austen novel before. It was work to slog through some of the chapters. The heroine is very unlike Austen's others. Additionally, more of her childhood and adolescence is in the book. I re-read it a couple of years later and liked it much better. I know a lot of people dislike the character of Fanny Price. They think her insipid, or boring, or judgemental. And I believe a lot of readers think her very plain, which isn't necessarily true. The book mentions how her relatives started to notice how well she looked after others noticed. In my mind, that doesn't mean she was plain or unattractive, just that her relatives never really looked at her. She was a sort of non-entity in the house, who was only noticed when something went awry. I think because Fanny Price is, for the most part, timid and quiet we get much more of her internal musings than we get with other of Austen's heroines.

All of which is to say that with a character that spends so much time within her own head, an adaptation is fraught with difficulty. If readers believe her to be plain and insipid then any actress cast will be 'not Fanny' in their minds. If the adaptors share the opinion of readers and try to spice Fanny up a bit, we end up with the last adaptation, which was more an interpretation filtered through 20th century attitudes. I know the casting of Billie Piper as Fanny Price was controversial to many, who thought her very much 'not Fanny' in that she was blonde and buxom. I thought she did quite well with the character. I may be in the minority, but I highly enjoyed this adaptation. I realize it cut down the intricacies of the story to fit with the time alloted, but they covered the important points quite well. I have only a few quibbles.

My first quibble, in importance if not in chronology, is that Sir Thomas didn't send Fanny to Portsmouth. That is a very important part of the story, especially in Fanny's response to her family and their lifestyle. It is a wake-up call for Fanny, just not in the way Sir Thomas wanted it to be. Leaving Fanny in solitude at Mansfield Park was a very poor substitute. I assume the change had to do with shooting schedules and production costs, but it left out a very important part of the growth that both Fanny, and the Bertrams attitude toward Fanny, go through. It seems to lessen Fanny's happy ending to leave out the really unhappy alternative she faced.

A second quibble is the lack of explanation afforded to the Bertram's attitudes toward Fanny. The short scene in which she runs crying from a gooseberry tart doesn't really explain how frightening it was for Fanny to deal with the Bertrams' ways. Additionally, this adaptation softened both Lady Bertram and Mrs. Norris considerably. Lady Bertram was always silly, but the adaptation gave her a bit of redemption at the end, which I don't know was deserved. And Mrs. Norris got off extremely easy. She is such a loathesome character and her diminished screen time didn't set up what a delightful punishment her self-imposed banishment with Maria was nor why she deserved it. Maybe I'm just too short on mercy of late, but I feel that the film glossed over how much of a hand Mrs. Norris had in all the evil that befell the Bertrams.

This brings me to my last quibble. All the time that was taken up with the happy ending. My favorite part of the novel is Austen's admission of the forgone conclusion of Fanny and Edmund, while leaving it up to the reader to decide the particulars. The addition of the new-fangled waltz at the end seemed incongruous for the characters of Fanny and Edmund. I'm happy for them, and seeing Edmund suffer uncertainty for a night while Fanny got a bit of her own back was enjoyable, but I would have rather they spent those 10 minutes in Portsmouth, or fleshing out Mrs. Norris or giving Julia a bit more consideration. It seemed unecessary in comparison with what was glossed over or left out.

All told, however, I enjoyed it and I enjoyed Billie Piper as Fanny. I did spend a lot of time trying to figure out where I had seen the rest of the cast before. The whole movie was spend thinking 'Hey, it's that guy/girl!' and not being able to remember where they were from. Except for the Bionic Woman. She and her decolletage were pretty memorable as Maria.

And Scene!

So here are my initial, scattered reactions to the new adaptation of Persuasion on Masterpiece Theatre (or should I stop being stubborn and adopt the new name Masterpiece Classic? Anyone know why they changed it?)

• I was driven to distraction by Gillian Anderson's hair being parted in the middle. I'm so used to seeing her with 'Scully hair' that I couldn't pay attention to what she was saying.
• The leads, Sally Hawkins and Rupert Penry-Jones, totally sold it. I thought Ms. Hawkins especially did an amazing job of capturing the character of Anne Elliott, focusing on her sacrifice(s) without being maudlin about it.
• I liked the way the director and the actors, especially Anthony Head (Giles, for any Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans) did an excellent job of capturing the viciousness of Anne's family. People are prone to protraying Sir Elliott, Elizabeth, and Mary as silly, which they are, but in focusing on the foolishness, they overlook how truly cruel they are to Anne and others. I think that is one of the greatest strengths about this adaptation.
• I understand needing to mess with timelines and speed things up when adapting a novel for the screen, but to completely disorder the entire denouement short-changes how wonderful Austen's plotting is in the book.
• I have read Persuasion many times; it is my favorite Austen novel. However, I never in any of my many readings got the implication that Mr. Elliot planned in ANY way to make Mrs. Clay his mistress. I think that part of the adaptation drove me the most nuts. Harriet Smith is declaring Mr. Elliot's sins to the whole of Camden Place, completely shoe-horned into the ending, just so the audience could know how vile he is. That part of the scene took me out of the film so totally, I couldn't concentrate on the rest of the it.
• Kiss her already, you moron! Seriously, it was on the verge of becoming embarrassingly cruel to watch her wait for it so long. Honestly!
  
• I'm ambivalent about the adaptation insinuating Captain Wentworth bought Kellynch Hall as a wedding present. Unless I'm wrong and he just took over the lease from his sister and brother-in-law. That explanation works for me much better. I think I'll go with it.
  
• I think this did an excellent job of introducing Austen neophytes to the book, but I think the 1995 adaptation with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds is a more faithful adaptation and, therefore, more enjoyable to those who already love the book.
• All you lovers of lush, literary adaptations and/or British men have to check out this link from the Masterpiece Classic website: The Men of Austen. It cracked me up. Although knowing what their fortune is worth in today's economy is quite helpful. I think my heart still belongs to Mr. Thornton, however. Captain Wentworth runs a close second. Followed by Mr. Darcy, Edward Ferrars, and Mr. Knightly rounding out my top 5 literary crushes. If you were curious.

Calling All Austen Fans

Doesn't this seem like the best slumber party game ever? You are all invited. Too bad we couldn't throw in a couple of Victorians like Mr. Rochester and Mr. Thornton. Although Mr. Darcy, Captain Wentworth, and Mr. Knightly aren't too shabby on their own.

Things That Are Wicked Awesome

Seeing as how I'll be out of town for the next 4 days and will be unable to obsessively check to see how many people like me, I thought I would leave you with a few things that made my day.

Getting rid of my Utah license. I have a Washington drivers license again. I didn't have to take a test to get it, either. In fact, because I used to have a Washington license AND I took Driver's Ed in Washington, I didn't have to show any supporting documents or do anything more than take an eye test. Which I passed, even though I think I had my contacts in the wrong eyes today.

Finding out I got a raise. I opened my paycheck today and the stub told me I had received a $0.75/hour raise. My first instinct was to call the woman who does payroll to correct the mistake, but then I remembered that the payrol is checked by at least two people, so it is a real raise. And I didn't even know about it.

Only buying gasoline once a month. Because I only drive around my small little town, maybe going out of town once a month, I only have to fill up my car's tank once a month. My monthly fuel budget is under $30.

Having a 5 day weekend. Even though at least 16 hours during that 5 day weekend will be spent on airplanes or in airports, I am still looking forward to not having to go into the office for 5 consecutive days. Huzzah!

Technically being paid to read a book. I had to sit and wait at the County Courthouse for an hour today while various people argued over whether or not a deal could close and documents could record, so I was being paid (my new, $0.75 more per hour, rate) to sit under a tree and read A.S. Byatt's Possession: A Reader's Guide which I have been wanting to read forever and finally, through the generosity of some truly lovely friends, got from Amazon.com. It is completely interesting and I would recommend it to anyone who has read Possession: A Romance, because that is one dense book, and there is no way one can pick up all the references and theory in it. And I got to read it on the clock. I believe the words you are looking for are 'wicked awesome.' Have a great weekend!

Wuthering Heights

I decided to join the book club organised by our ward's Relief Society and thus undertook to read the book they will be discussing at their next meeting: Wuthering Heights. I read Wuthering Heights when I was in high school. Not because it was assigned, but rather because I wanted to. I had already embarked on my anglophilic obsession with 19th century British women novelists and had worked my way through Austen's ouvre and had finished Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights was the logical next step. Being seventeen and engaged in several intense crushes (well, intense as any high school crush can be) on inappropriate boys, naturally the book appealed to me. I felt the anguish of proud Catherine and anger of spurned Heathcliff. I was so engaged in the book that I declined an invitation to a co-ed snowmobiling party to finish it. I bought a copy of the book. It sat on my shelf through college and beyond and I haven't really thought of it in years except when packing and unpacking it during my many moves. Until now.

I don't know if it is age or wisdom, but the book doesn't hold the same power it once did. As I read it, often aloud to my mom so we can both get it finished by Tuesday, I am more annoyed with the characters than anything. Edgar Linton, who I mentally mocked along with Catherine, is now the most sympathetic. I have no patience for what I now read as Catherine's selfish rantings. Either I have grown cynical or just lost my naivete, but I hold no romantic notions about Heathliff. I pity him; I wonder what would have become of him if shown one ounce of courtesy or compassion by any in the Earnshaw or Linton households other than Catherine and her father. However, I no longer have any idea of hope that he might have some shred of human decency, an idea I harbored when I read the book a decade ago. And it isn't just because I know the end from the beginning now, because the genius of Wuthering Heights is how engrossing the story is, even though the novel's struture is such that the outcome for most of the characters is known from the beginning of the novel. The first time I read it, I knew that Heathcliff came to a bad end, because he opens that book very near the bad end. I'm just not connecting to book the way I once did, nor am I enjoying reading it as I once did. It is more like a chore.

An interesting corollary to this is that a decade ago when I read Jane Eyre I liked it, but wasn't moved by it. After seeing the recent Masterpiece Theatre adaptation of it, I re-read it and found it so much more engaging. Is this also a symptom of age or wisdom? Or do I simply not have the emotional energy for any entertainment without a fully happy and hopeful ending these days?

And in a superficial and wholly 'What the crap!?!" moment for you all, when I was searching Google for a picture of the book, I came across a Wikipedia entry that mentioned someone in Hollywood was floating the idea of a film adaptation of Wuthering Heights with Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp as Catherine and Heathcliff respectively. Any thoughts?