abandon thought and let the dream descend
I walked about the chamber most of the time. I imagined myself only to be regretting my loss, and thinking how to repair it; but when my reflections were concluded, and I looked up and found that the afternoon was gone, and evening far advanced, another discovery dawned on me: namely, that in the interval I had undergone a transforming process; that my mind had put off all it had borrowed of Miss Temple --- or rather that she had taken with her the serene atmosphere I had been breathing in her vicinity --- and that now I was left in my natural element; and beginning to feel the stirring of old emotions. It did not seem as if a prop were withdrawn, but rather as if a motive were gone; it was not the power to be tranquil which had failed me, but the reason for tranquility was no more. my world had for some years been in Lowood: my experience had been of its rules and systems; now I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils. - p.93, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
Never noticed that paragraph before, even that moment. My mind always goes directly to the immortal passage later about the difference between men and women. But this, this I like very much. And y'know what, I totally don't need to write a Miss Temple/Jane femmeslash. Cos it's all THERE! In the very text. I kid you not. Well, okay, maybe a little kidding.
But the scene where she and Helen and Miss Temple share tea and cake is described in such lush adoring language that I was reading it with this small bemused grin on my face and then read it again to make sure I hadn't been reading way too much into it. Naaaaaahhhh. She totally loves them both, is so very sensually in love with the both of them, in exactly the way I would have written the fic. Except with possibly some more lonely angst.
And I totally had a moment of squeeage when Miss Temple handed out seedcake and I did a little mental scream as a Kate Bush fan who counts the actual song of The Sensual World as one of top five favs. Total brilliance! I was like gibbering, going "title, title, there's my title!" Except of course that Kate uses kiss of seedcake in a very heterosexual context. And I'm not exactly sure what seedcake is, I keep thinking of orange and poppyseed muffins and thinking maybe that's the consistency. Hm.
Moot point, anyway. Cos it's all there, shimmering not even between the lines. God, I love Charlotte Bronte.
Meanwhile, yesterday I popped The Cell score into the stereo to assist with the final scenes of the Phan!pron. Which kinda made me want to watch the film itself. Hadn't realised just how long it's been since I've watched it. It was almost new to my eyes, noticing the careful colour composition and the abundance of curves rather than straight lines, really appreciating the gorgeous sweeping shots and the totally mindblowing reversals of perspectives. It really is a fucking AMAZING film. I've loved it for so long I think I almost forgot why in the first place. It's also the oldest DVD I own, I think, and the first I ever watched on this player. I remember trying to hook up the stereo to the DVD player and when it worked, the first sound I heard were the eerie strains of the opening desert scene. Ahhhh all the way back then in Drummoyne ...
On the other hand, somehow last night I also realised just how very dark and scary it is. *blinks* Yes, please bring the tropy for Most Obvious Revelation over here. I totally had moments of "Jesus, I've recommended this movie with all this content and ghastly imagery to people?! What was I thinking?! Was I slightly demented, did they think I was demented? Waitaminit, I AM demented! Okay, that's all right then. JAYSUS, you sick fuck, Stargher!"
Perhaps it's because for the first time I actually noticed it's an R18+ rating. Whu? Oh. Oh really? Oh. Huh. I think it was really Vincent D'Onofrio. shaddup, cass. How he manages to somehow make me feel for Stargher even as he does these terrible terrible mindscorching things. He infuses him with such delicate vulnerability even as he totally inhabits the towering insane emperor persona. And how he makes me lust after Stargher!King while I hate him so much too. And that's not just my own warped sensibilities!
God, that scene by the bathtub always kills me dead. Last night I was reacting with body flinches and whimpers, it was all new and that much more terrible to me. Even though I had whispers of Tarsem's commentary in the back of my head, remembering what he said about the actor playing the dad being really disturbed by what he had to do to the kid --- god, the iron! *shudders* --- and how matter of fact admiring he was about my favourite line in the movie. When Stargher kicks back the stool and stands to face Catherine and says "Is that right? And what world do you live in?" that's the only time in the entire movie that Vincent uses his own voice. The effect of it totally breaks my brain apart. Fucking BRILLIANT!
Best of all? I picked up something new last night. That the movement I love so much in the bathtub scene when he as king crawls up Catherine's body, so sensual and dangerous and coquettish, that's actually an echo of how he arranges himself over the first doll victim we see, Anne Maree (sp?) in the infamous masturbation scene or what I call the "Stargher you sick fuck!" scene. *shudder claw face*
God how I love that movie. So glad it was the first to make me write fic. The brilliant innovation of it with the costumes (that lush purple fabric along the walls attached to his back, brilliant hedonistic impossible vile beautiful wings of a sort) and the brilliant devices of slow motion and echoic soft voices and oh god how utterly utterly tight and seamless is all the symbolism. God, I love how Tarsem weaves so much symbolism into a whole. It's almost Thomas Hardy like. And, ha, just as misogynist! Bastard Thomas Hardy. *mutters rant*
At the moment, I'm really immersing myself in the score. I listen to it very rarely. I certainly don't listen to it for pleasure. Dunno if you really can do that with movie scores, they're so emotive it could be quite harrowing. Or maybe that's all the scores I have. It's more of an intellectual love I have for this score, that it's Howard Shore pre-LOTR and that I completely adore the simple thing he did of having every musician play slightly out of sync with each other so all through the movie is this subtle discordant disharmony that jitters along your nerves, gets under your skin, and so when they all play in sync at the final scene, your heart just soars and soars and swells with beauty, with healing harmony.
Which is why when I need to write a particularly uncomfortable angry angsty vicious scene, I use The Cell score as background music. So I never really listen to it, just use the effect it has on me to get the mood I need. Last night though because I watched the movie after I put the score on, I was a little more aware of which piece fitted with which scene. It's a very subtle score at times, you may not even be aware there's music playing in some scenes either because it's that soft and strange and atmospheric or because the visuals are that shocking/elaborate/changing.
But, yeah, now I think I'm gaining a deeper appreciation of the composition of each piece. Perhaps it's because I find some correlation to the atmospherics and industrial slices of NIN and am somewhat addicted to With Teeth at the moment. So I find it easier to get into the jarring so subtle discordant melodies. See, this I like. So why does Philip Glass leave me cold? Hrm. Perhaps it's a matter of time and familiarity.
And oh yeah, I totally need to get this off my chest: I fucking adore Pruitt Taylor Vince. Seriously. Every time I see the man, he's in the coolest context. He's the one to tell us about Whalen's Infraction in The Cell. Fascinating! And he was the one to kidnap Scully way back when in, I think, season one. And I did fucking adore him in Identity. Which I should watch again, just to check my first impression. And last week, in House! Major squeeage and clapping and admiration of what he did in the fat suit, the excellent dignity he brought to that role. Every single time I see that man, he impresses me. So cool.
But yeah, sometimes I scare myself. In case I've ever recommended The Cell to you.
... too long you've wandered in winter ...
Oh, sweet thing happened yesterday. I spent the day writing and when I finished syncing the journal to the word doco, I switched on the telly to accompany dinner. And there was my Frank, squeee! I always forget which Saturday is Some Mothers because somehow I always seem to switch the telly on to Benny Hill which promptly makes me scream and turn it off again. I loathe that man. Really. I can only ever watch him in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. All other times he makes me want to scrub my skin until it comes off.
But awwwww, my Frank. Even if it was the last season instead of the first which I kinda love best. But awww, him and Jessica. And yes, I've gotten to the point where I can say the next line and still wail "Don't step back, don't step back, don't stand there, oh god!" Oh Frank. You're hopeless but I heart you. God, I hope I get my DVDs back soon ...
Never noticed that paragraph before, even that moment. My mind always goes directly to the immortal passage later about the difference between men and women. But this, this I like very much. And y'know what, I totally don't need to write a Miss Temple/Jane femmeslash. Cos it's all THERE! In the very text. I kid you not. Well, okay, maybe a little kidding.
But the scene where she and Helen and Miss Temple share tea and cake is described in such lush adoring language that I was reading it with this small bemused grin on my face and then read it again to make sure I hadn't been reading way too much into it. Naaaaaahhhh. She totally loves them both, is so very sensually in love with the both of them, in exactly the way I would have written the fic. Except with possibly some more lonely angst.
And I totally had a moment of squeeage when Miss Temple handed out seedcake and I did a little mental scream as a Kate Bush fan who counts the actual song of The Sensual World as one of top five favs. Total brilliance! I was like gibbering, going "title, title, there's my title!" Except of course that Kate uses kiss of seedcake in a very heterosexual context. And I'm not exactly sure what seedcake is, I keep thinking of orange and poppyseed muffins and thinking maybe that's the consistency. Hm.
Moot point, anyway. Cos it's all there, shimmering not even between the lines. God, I love Charlotte Bronte.
Meanwhile, yesterday I popped The Cell score into the stereo to assist with the final scenes of the Phan!pron. Which kinda made me want to watch the film itself. Hadn't realised just how long it's been since I've watched it. It was almost new to my eyes, noticing the careful colour composition and the abundance of curves rather than straight lines, really appreciating the gorgeous sweeping shots and the totally mindblowing reversals of perspectives. It really is a fucking AMAZING film. I've loved it for so long I think I almost forgot why in the first place. It's also the oldest DVD I own, I think, and the first I ever watched on this player. I remember trying to hook up the stereo to the DVD player and when it worked, the first sound I heard were the eerie strains of the opening desert scene. Ahhhh all the way back then in Drummoyne ...
On the other hand, somehow last night I also realised just how very dark and scary it is. *blinks* Yes, please bring the tropy for Most Obvious Revelation over here. I totally had moments of "Jesus, I've recommended this movie with all this content and ghastly imagery to people?! What was I thinking?! Was I slightly demented, did they think I was demented? Waitaminit, I AM demented! Okay, that's all right then. JAYSUS, you sick fuck, Stargher!"
Perhaps it's because for the first time I actually noticed it's an R18+ rating. Whu? Oh. Oh really? Oh. Huh. I think it was really Vincent D'Onofrio. shaddup, cass. How he manages to somehow make me feel for Stargher even as he does these terrible terrible mindscorching things. He infuses him with such delicate vulnerability even as he totally inhabits the towering insane emperor persona. And how he makes me lust after Stargher!King while I hate him so much too. And that's not just my own warped sensibilities!
God, that scene by the bathtub always kills me dead. Last night I was reacting with body flinches and whimpers, it was all new and that much more terrible to me. Even though I had whispers of Tarsem's commentary in the back of my head, remembering what he said about the actor playing the dad being really disturbed by what he had to do to the kid --- god, the iron! *shudders* --- and how matter of fact admiring he was about my favourite line in the movie. When Stargher kicks back the stool and stands to face Catherine and says "Is that right? And what world do you live in?" that's the only time in the entire movie that Vincent uses his own voice. The effect of it totally breaks my brain apart. Fucking BRILLIANT!
Best of all? I picked up something new last night. That the movement I love so much in the bathtub scene when he as king crawls up Catherine's body, so sensual and dangerous and coquettish, that's actually an echo of how he arranges himself over the first doll victim we see, Anne Maree (sp?) in the infamous masturbation scene or what I call the "Stargher you sick fuck!" scene. *shudder claw face*
God how I love that movie. So glad it was the first to make me write fic. The brilliant innovation of it with the costumes (that lush purple fabric along the walls attached to his back, brilliant hedonistic impossible vile beautiful wings of a sort) and the brilliant devices of slow motion and echoic soft voices and oh god how utterly utterly tight and seamless is all the symbolism. God, I love how Tarsem weaves so much symbolism into a whole. It's almost Thomas Hardy like. And, ha, just as misogynist! Bastard Thomas Hardy. *mutters rant*
At the moment, I'm really immersing myself in the score. I listen to it very rarely. I certainly don't listen to it for pleasure. Dunno if you really can do that with movie scores, they're so emotive it could be quite harrowing. Or maybe that's all the scores I have. It's more of an intellectual love I have for this score, that it's Howard Shore pre-LOTR and that I completely adore the simple thing he did of having every musician play slightly out of sync with each other so all through the movie is this subtle discordant disharmony that jitters along your nerves, gets under your skin, and so when they all play in sync at the final scene, your heart just soars and soars and swells with beauty, with healing harmony.
Which is why when I need to write a particularly uncomfortable angry angsty vicious scene, I use The Cell score as background music. So I never really listen to it, just use the effect it has on me to get the mood I need. Last night though because I watched the movie after I put the score on, I was a little more aware of which piece fitted with which scene. It's a very subtle score at times, you may not even be aware there's music playing in some scenes either because it's that soft and strange and atmospheric or because the visuals are that shocking/elaborate/changing.
But, yeah, now I think I'm gaining a deeper appreciation of the composition of each piece. Perhaps it's because I find some correlation to the atmospherics and industrial slices of NIN and am somewhat addicted to With Teeth at the moment. So I find it easier to get into the jarring so subtle discordant melodies. See, this I like. So why does Philip Glass leave me cold? Hrm. Perhaps it's a matter of time and familiarity.
And oh yeah, I totally need to get this off my chest: I fucking adore Pruitt Taylor Vince. Seriously. Every time I see the man, he's in the coolest context. He's the one to tell us about Whalen's Infraction in The Cell. Fascinating! And he was the one to kidnap Scully way back when in, I think, season one. And I did fucking adore him in Identity. Which I should watch again, just to check my first impression. And last week, in House! Major squeeage and clapping and admiration of what he did in the fat suit, the excellent dignity he brought to that role. Every single time I see that man, he impresses me. So cool.
But yeah, sometimes I scare myself. In case I've ever recommended The Cell to you.
... too long you've wandered in winter ...
Oh, sweet thing happened yesterday. I spent the day writing and when I finished syncing the journal to the word doco, I switched on the telly to accompany dinner. And there was my Frank, squeee! I always forget which Saturday is Some Mothers because somehow I always seem to switch the telly on to Benny Hill which promptly makes me scream and turn it off again. I loathe that man. Really. I can only ever watch him in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. All other times he makes me want to scrub my skin until it comes off.
But awwwww, my Frank. Even if it was the last season instead of the first which I kinda love best. But awww, him and Jessica. And yes, I've gotten to the point where I can say the next line and still wail "Don't step back, don't step back, don't stand there, oh god!" Oh Frank. You're hopeless but I heart you. God, I hope I get my DVDs back soon ...