A Piece of Work
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work: Last night I got together with varina8, had dinner with her, and went to see this documentary about the iconic comedienne. I've never really been a fan of hers, but I haven't seen a good documentary in a while, and this one was getting excellent reviews. The reviews weren't wrong. The film follows a year in the life of Ms. Rivers. This woman is 75 years old (or was when the film was made) and it was exhausting to watch her perform, plan, schedule. She's got the energy and drive of a 25-year-old with all the wisdom, cynicism, and attitude of a woman her age plus. I'd forgotten about her having attended Barnard College and studying with Margaret Mead. Her brains shine through every moment she's on screen. I'd forgotten about her husband's suicide--a tough passage of the film to watch. I hadn't known that Johnny Carson cut her off when she decided to take the opportunity to get her own TV show instead of sitting in his chair at the Tonight Show part time. If she'd been a man, he would have feted her and wished her well. The documentarians disappear in this film, letting Rivers, warts and all, tell her own story. For all the plastic surgery and red carpet nastiness, Joan Rivers shows herself to be the ultimate Hollywood survivor--warm, smart, driven, funny as hell, but with a fragility and a compassion I hadn't expected--in a film that is no puff piece at all, and I came out admiring her quite a bit.
You can take the girl out of New York: At one point in the film, Rivers says something to the effect that if you leave New York or LA, you've basically left the world. varina8 turned and pointed at me. Fair enough. I'll cop to that attitude. Funnily enough, when I got home, there was e-mail from the folks at A Guide to Visitors seeking stories about identity politics. I wrote to them and pitched two stories, one about my time in the Seattle Lesbian and Gay Chorus and one about being a dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker learning how to be a Seattlite. We'll see if they bite.
That first-novel thing: Back in 2006, I raved about a book called "Gospel" by Wilton Barnhardt, a brilliant adventure about a lost gospel and the two mismatched scholars who go looking for it. I thought the author was a genius and, it turns out, kijjohnson will be studying with him in the fall. I squeed like a fan-girl when I found out; I have The Envy bigtime. At any rate, I found a copy of Barnhardt's first novel, "Emma Who Saved My Life," at Powell's recently and have started reading it. It has many of the hallmarks of "Gospel"--a mastery of narrative voice, an acuteness of observation about human nature, and a clear love of research that makes the setting (1970s NYC) clear and familiar. At the same time, at 130 pages in, I'm finding that I want to smack the eponymous character silly. She's insecure and self-involved and just kind of irritating. Reviewers seem to have been completely charmed by her--me, not so much. I'll finish the book because the rest of it is so good. What I'm hoping is that the book will resolve Emma's smack-worthy qualities. We'll see.
Road-trip prep: This afternoon, jackwilliambell and I will be taking off to drive the Cascade Loop Scenic Highway, which has a reputation as one of the most beautiful drives in the country. I've wanted to do this roadtrip since I moved here, so I'm quite excited about the prospect. As usual, I'm having pre-trip blues that I need to quash so I can properly prepare to be gone. Though I know it would make them miserable, I weirdly wish I could take my kitties with me. But I digress. Much to do this morning in prep for departure. Need to get cookin'.
You can take the girl out of New York: At one point in the film, Rivers says something to the effect that if you leave New York or LA, you've basically left the world. varina8 turned and pointed at me. Fair enough. I'll cop to that attitude. Funnily enough, when I got home, there was e-mail from the folks at A Guide to Visitors seeking stories about identity politics. I wrote to them and pitched two stories, one about my time in the Seattle Lesbian and Gay Chorus and one about being a dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker learning how to be a Seattlite. We'll see if they bite.
That first-novel thing: Back in 2006, I raved about a book called "Gospel" by Wilton Barnhardt, a brilliant adventure about a lost gospel and the two mismatched scholars who go looking for it. I thought the author was a genius and, it turns out, kijjohnson will be studying with him in the fall. I squeed like a fan-girl when I found out; I have The Envy bigtime. At any rate, I found a copy of Barnhardt's first novel, "Emma Who Saved My Life," at Powell's recently and have started reading it. It has many of the hallmarks of "Gospel"--a mastery of narrative voice, an acuteness of observation about human nature, and a clear love of research that makes the setting (1970s NYC) clear and familiar. At the same time, at 130 pages in, I'm finding that I want to smack the eponymous character silly. She's insecure and self-involved and just kind of irritating. Reviewers seem to have been completely charmed by her--me, not so much. I'll finish the book because the rest of it is so good. What I'm hoping is that the book will resolve Emma's smack-worthy qualities. We'll see.
Road-trip prep: This afternoon, jackwilliambell and I will be taking off to drive the Cascade Loop Scenic Highway, which has a reputation as one of the most beautiful drives in the country. I've wanted to do this roadtrip since I moved here, so I'm quite excited about the prospect. As usual, I'm having pre-trip blues that I need to quash so I can properly prepare to be gone. Though I know it would make them miserable, I weirdly wish I could take my kitties with me. But I digress. Much to do this morning in prep for departure. Need to get cookin'.