Where I Try to Get All Literary On You
I'm about 3/4s through our April Book Club choice, Atonement, by Ian McEwan. I've been meaning to read McEwan for years.
I'm glad I finally did.
I was charmed at the off-set by the portrait of the young girl writing and attempting to put on a play. There was something endearingly recognizable about that (someday when Aaron or I really hit it big, they'll dig out our Lochness Monster Trilogy, circa 1983, and attempt to get at the root of our eight-year-old theatrical minds) and a sweetly pastoral beauty about the English estate setting.
And then it all turns. There is sex, immediate and needy, there are awful transgressions of judgment, there are secrets and lies, there are little moments of reveal that peel away the corner to show the dark underbelly of a family--but only for a moment--suddenly there is life in all of its ugliness and error. And still a sheen of beauty. A lover's departure, a moment framed by moonlight--longing, aching romance.
I like it, I do.
The retreat from France section did go on a bit, but there are passages in that section (like the meal with the French brothers in the barn or the vision of the beach littered with thousands of men) that make it well worth the stretch.
I've just started on the third part. There is a wonderful description of this moment when collective life is changed forever by war when the wounded and maimed arrive suddenly at a hospital in evacuated London. It reminded me of Hope and Glory and Empire of the Sun, two fabulous movies that came out in the late 80s, both of which gave peep-hole views into life during the second world war, particularly if you were British, particularly if you were a young boy.
Those of you who were too young to see these movies when they came out, see them now. They both left an indelible impression on my twelve-year-old mind.
Other odds and ends:
* A great DCist review.
* Spring arrived.
* The speech-writer's brother is in town to read from his new book. Those of you looking for a place with smart people who are only slightly self-aware of their own hipness should go. Don't we all keep saying "We should see less theater and go to more book readings and museums!"
Really, I do keep saying that, and I know I've said that to some of you. Anyhow, I'm going to try to go if there isn't a design run I need to see.
* Feist suddenly appeared everywhere in my life and I am liking her. You too?
* I read Green Eggs and Ham on Friday, and I am here to tell you--it only gets better with time.
I'm glad I finally did.
I was charmed at the off-set by the portrait of the young girl writing and attempting to put on a play. There was something endearingly recognizable about that (someday when Aaron or I really hit it big, they'll dig out our Lochness Monster Trilogy, circa 1983, and attempt to get at the root of our eight-year-old theatrical minds) and a sweetly pastoral beauty about the English estate setting.
And then it all turns. There is sex, immediate and needy, there are awful transgressions of judgment, there are secrets and lies, there are little moments of reveal that peel away the corner to show the dark underbelly of a family--but only for a moment--suddenly there is life in all of its ugliness and error. And still a sheen of beauty. A lover's departure, a moment framed by moonlight--longing, aching romance.
I like it, I do.
The retreat from France section did go on a bit, but there are passages in that section (like the meal with the French brothers in the barn or the vision of the beach littered with thousands of men) that make it well worth the stretch.
I've just started on the third part. There is a wonderful description of this moment when collective life is changed forever by war when the wounded and maimed arrive suddenly at a hospital in evacuated London. It reminded me of Hope and Glory and Empire of the Sun, two fabulous movies that came out in the late 80s, both of which gave peep-hole views into life during the second world war, particularly if you were British, particularly if you were a young boy.
Those of you who were too young to see these movies when they came out, see them now. They both left an indelible impression on my twelve-year-old mind.
Other odds and ends:
* A great DCist review.
* Spring arrived.
* The speech-writer's brother is in town to read from his new book. Those of you looking for a place with smart people who are only slightly self-aware of their own hipness should go. Don't we all keep saying "We should see less theater and go to more book readings and museums!"
Really, I do keep saying that, and I know I've said that to some of you. Anyhow, I'm going to try to go if there isn't a design run I need to see.
* Feist suddenly appeared everywhere in my life and I am liking her. You too?
* I read Green Eggs and Ham on Friday, and I am here to tell you--it only gets better with time.
posted by SAS @ 4:00 PM
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