A thing of beauty

Although the sink is fixed (remember the broken sink? It was like a weeping virgin statue — it leaked when we were here alone, but whenever the plumber and super came, it miraculously dried up), the Internet has been sporadic the last few days. I pray you will never have to deal with the idiocy of our provider customer service as I did. I fixed it myself. I think the problem will continue due to work in our area, which they at first denied, then copped to. And so the fun continues…

I continue to knit and crochet in prep for the show in two and half weeks. I continue to clean the house and do laundry. I continue to search for work. In the meantime, I find I am sort of looking forward to this upcoming Jane Campion movie about John Keats and Fanny Brawne, Bright Star:


I will confess I never enjoyed my Romantic literature class in college. I remember the book well — it was thick and burgundy, with gold lettering on the outside. I loved my professor, who passed away last year. She was one of the good ones, God rest her soul.

I just never got into the whinging, pewling, overwrought otherness of it all. To make a strange correlation, Romantic poetry is kind of like the music of Nirvana to me — grow a pair, boys. Those were, and are, my thoughts. I always gravitated more to the poets who remained uncovered in our texts. William Carlos Williams, Nikki Giovanni. As if they ever would have taught HER. But still, I skipped ahead and read anyway. Please don’t even ask if I read Sylvia Plath. I think you know the answer.

And I’m not even a big Jane Campion fan. I just find myself drawn to the imagery of this movie, and the fact she has decided to focus on Fanny’s sewing as an artistic counterpoint to the boys’ poetry. Make of it what you will, as this rather typical article did. So much for well thought out criticism.

I can at least tell you two things, should you care: The actor playing the “villain” of the piece, Paul Schneider, is someone you may have seen in small character parts here and there (even in NBC comedy Parks and Recreation), but should you choose to, you might check out his leading role in one of my favorite films of the last decade, All The Real Girls. If your Netflix queue is empty, have a look.

And second, although I said I am not a particular fan of Ms. Campion, I will never forget the fact that I first saw The Piano a mere few weeks after it debuted at Cannes, at a private screening at a private Catholic school with Antonio Saboto Jr. in the audience. I offered him and Dylan McDermott (who was also there) half of my blueberry muffin from the craft services table. It was the last one, and the boys really, really wanted it.

Make of that what you will. Maybe I should have tried out for his wretched dating show on VH1 and brought it up. That man does love his muffins.

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One comment

  1. Gina · September 17, 2009

    I would be willing to bet that you didn’t care for the writings of Miss Plath. That’s just my guess. I rather liked the Maggie Gyllenhal reading of The Bell Jar. Books on CD are a godsend to those of us who hate driving.

    About 20 years ago, I saw Nikki Giovanni read her poetry, and the evening was amazing. She had so much power and depth. She was a cool cat.

    Knit on, sister.

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