don't forget I love you
Apologies; this is late for the majority of holidays, I believe, except New Years! As is just about everything I've tried to accomplish this year. I have this bad habit of treating most of my vacations as convalescences; my main resolution this year, naturally, is to try to stop overdoing everything. (No really.)
It's been a lovely bit of R&R, although I've barely even scratched the yuletide surface or spent much time online; too busy tripping and falling into Connie Willis' Blackout/All Clear. (Another problem I have in re overdoing things: reading in moderation does not come naturally!) That said, I'm absurdly excited about the abundant Downton Abbey fic this year, and what I have read (mostly Blue Beetle and Community), I've enjoyed immensely. I may have to do recs; I don't remember the last time I did that!
My brother's off in France again, so I've had a quiet little holiday at home with my parents; in spite of a little bit of present-related stress (due to grad student lateness and reduced budget), it was mostly as laid-back and comfortable as usual. Apart from a little bit of a mess with an angora/wool blend sweater which shed all over me after I'd tried it on for two seconds (I did ask my dad not to buy me sweaters, but he doesn't listen), anyway. I have managed to find Dad some comics he will actually read for once (Kate Beaton is a great bridge-builder) and finally achieved a proper tea kettle for my apartment (and will never again accidentally scald myself trying to pour boiling water from a saucepan when not yet awake). Also, my adorable mother "forgot" the Bailey's I requested for the hot chocolate, and it turned up under the tree instead. And she got my dad a little novelty version of Poe's "The Raven" that came with a little plastic statuette that intermittently croaks "nevermore" (with doleful church bells in the background). IDEK.
We voted, 2-1, to go to 6pm mass on Christmas Eve rather than at midnight or in the morning ... I knew it wasn't going to be as pleasant for me as in years past, with their really lovely and relatively pluralistic former priest gone into retirement, but I was unpleasantly surprised. :/ Being buried under my artistic rock, and you know, not a member of the church in any case, I completely missed the debut of the new English-language translation of the Catholic mass which debuted in late November. My parents aren't in the least thrilled about it; they see it as an attempt to step back from Vatican II (although not a particularly big one). My interest in the whole issue isn't so deeply personal, particularly since I haven't spoken along with the mass since I decided to leave the church at 16, but I did find the changes awkward and not (from my limited perspective) theologically useful, serving only to create a certain barrier of understanding and upsetting the rhythm of the ceremony (although some of that's just the inherent discomfort of change). It would be less of a big deal if liberal Catholics like my parents weren't already feeling frustrated and alienated by the larger church hierarchy, and it didn't help that their new priest ... far from the clever and semi-universal preaching of his predecessor, actually stooped to insulting other surrounding parishes within his own tradition in some misguided attempt to highlight the strengths of his own. It was awkward, although I did enjoy the singing, as always.
Um, but enough harping on a religion that isn't even mine? (I am kind of tempted to pull out old lessons about early Christian thought and discomfort with the humanity/material fleshliness of Jesus Christ and conduct a reading of some of the new translation choices based on that, but hi, not remotely qualified at present. Erm. I am such a nerd, but at the same time, not really enough.) Beyond that, everything was great! My parents were ridiculous about last-minute present-wrapping as usual, we cooked a delicious holiday dinner (this baked spinach recipe is pretty fantastic, btw), and my dad kept trying to get me to give him my tie. Which was admittedly gorgeous ... and, you know, a present itself (from a friend). But hey, he's been really positive about the way I dress lately, and even though that's not such a new thing, it isn't really getting old for me.
In other news! I saw Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows TWICE last week (much to my father's disgust). That's kind of extra ridiculous considering how rarely I go to the theater, but good god, that was fun. Sometimes, recently, obvious and deliberate slashy fanservice has actually bothered me (because I've started to see it as a sort of frustrating method of unnecessarily avoiding actual, canonical gayness), but it really worked for me this time. I mean, maybe it was the lack of repeated and loud protestations of "ahaha, we know with this looks like, but we're not - Not That There's Anything Wrong With That." Or maybe it was the fact that the whole Holmes-Watson-Mary dynamic was handled so adeptly, in a way that allows us to recognize the importance of both pairings, and respect them (even though the Holmes/Watson partnership is the one highlighted by the plot). I love Mary in these movies, though as always, I could really stand a lot more of her. Hi, does anyone want to write me polyfic which isn't threesome fic, but involves Holmes/Watson and John/Mary and learning to share? (I'd like to see more of this sort of configuration in fandom. I know OT3s are particularly satisfying, in a way, but.) I would also read all the gen about Holmes and Mary having to work together in some fashion, and the growth of begrudging respect and even liking. Oh my, yes. (I should, in general, look for more movieverse fic; I never really read any.)
Also, I have to admit: I was forewarned about Irene's death and prepared to be pretty pissed about it, but I'm ... not? Exactly? I mean, if there's a next film, I'd be quite pleased if she pulled some kind of deus ex machina faked-her-own-death thing and reappeared; it would hardly be out of character for this universe (where Holmes can survive Reichenbach on the strength of an improbably small supply of oxygen while still suffering from a recently-impaled shoulder), but ... her death didn't feel forced to me, or deeply extraneous. It's true that it happens to further Holmes' journey, or Moriarty's reputation, rather than her own story ... but the broader problem, I think, is that she doesn't have much of her "own" story in the first place. Also, maybe it's just that I have so many worse examples, but the manpain that followed her death was positively restrained, and the incident felt entirely in character to me, both for her and for Moriarty (although I'll admit that Moriarty's comments about her "feelings" for Holmes irritated me, and I'd as soon he'd just gone ahead and killed her because she made a mistake, period). I spent a good ten minutes after my first viewing arguing the opposite of all this with
ataratah, but after stopping and thinking about it, I find that I don't have my usual measure of feminist storytelling rage, this time. I'm certainly open to disagreement, however!
Ack, must cut this short (rather than discussing any Christmas specials I may have watched yesterday - oh, Downton Abbey), but hi, I hope you're all having a lovely winter, holiday season, last few weeks, etc!
This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth. (
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