Everyday Heroes

What if, all you had to do to become a hero was leap across the watery chasm to the land beyond? What if all you had to do to become the mighty ruler of a beautiful woodland kingdom was close your eyes, and... keep your mind really open? Your pencil flies across empty paper and then voila! The denizens of Terabithia leap into life from carbon and parchment...

Yesterday, I went to watch Bridge to Terabithia with Shauna. It was a nice movie. The film is based on a book by Katherine Paterson. I used to see this book everywhere in my old secondary school library. For someone who read Lord of the Rings and the Chronicles of Narnia, this book never once caught my eye. =/ I've always felt that watching a movie was a cheater's way out of not reading the book, since all you had to do was sit there for two hrs and you get what would have been a day's (or more) worth of reading.

In any case, the movie was a good one. Some books translate well into small films about the everyday, while others... become a monumental task. Perhaps the reason Bridge to Terabithia (the film, not the book) resonates so well with me is because I do believe in the power of art in the real world. Some people call art and fantasy the opium of the masses, the bridge to illusions and escapism. Not true, as Bridge to Terabithia tells us - there are trolls and monsters in the real world too, and stories help reconcile us to the fact that they exist and have to be dealt with. The ending may come to shock some, since it is supposed to be a "kiddy" film, but I think it works well by anchoring a fantasy film firmly in reality. No worries, I shan't spoil it for people who are planning to watch it and haven't, and if you aren't planning to... nevermind.

So saying, I still don't intend to pick up the book. I never liked it, because it was attempting to explain to me the value of the imagination and story-making, two things which any reader can easily point out. It's not like you can like these things and not understand the value of fiction. Hence, reading it would have been a pain as the protagonist would have to go through the painful steps to enjoy what it is this frantic and aggreived reader already does. I'll keep saying "I told you so" to the character, which would quite take out the pleasure of the book. It's been said that there are two kinds of readers: the kind that just read, and then there is the other kind. I hope I fall into the second category.

Another Review

I've just finished reading Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman, finally. I've been trying to finish this book, with little luck ever since I first caught sight of it a few years back. Happily, the deed is done and I can go on to other incompletely read books in my holiday reading list. (For example, Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day) In any case, Anansi Boys is...

Let's just say, read it and you'll know. It's a nice little story about finding yourself, through stories, and within stories. As an obsessive-compulsive reader, it isn't too difficult for me to find myself in a fiction world, and it isn't too difficult either to see why Anansi stories are full of wit and wisdom. After all, you take what you need from stories, and each stories' wisdom is peculiar to each reader. Anansi Boys celebrates the power of story-telling, and I don't mean for self-glorification (that's Tiger), but stories' ability to bring laughter and humour to the foibles of human character.

It's all in the attitude, as Anansi would say.

The Dutiful Review

Year Four, and still not graduated I suppose, what with us coming back to watch yet another NY drama performance. It was Othello. Shakespeare's. Not the game. Duh. I remember watching them rehearse. Up till the week before, lines were still being forgotten, and I was wondering if I'll be getting my money's worth. On the whole though, it was clear that the cast and crew had put in their most, and even if I was sleepy (no thanks to medicine), and I didn't half catch what they were saying, I think anyone would agree with me when I say that for any school production, it's the journey that counts. Not the money. Ok... maybe the money too, but sheesh. There was an interval, which was merciful for some (since people who didn't do lit/Othello couldn't understand what they were saying), and not so for others, as they had to keep playing interval music which was oh so helpful when the lecture theatre was so noisy already. Huh. The lt did look really good however...even though the dragon banner on stage was ugly. I mean, seriously, that dragon looked...wormy. A pity. Still, I wonder how much longer we'll be coming back to watch NY drama stuff... It's been 2 years already.

Holiday Fever

I'm sick.

Go Away*.

*pls ignore.

The pros and cons of a Fever:

Pro:

I feel cold. Which is good neh? In this hideous bad warm weather. Free air-conditioning...

Invalids get to boss people around.

Con:

I feel wretched.

I feel lousy.

I feel ILL.

I am going to be ill when I have two busy weeks and a line of activities lined up. Wah.

Cockroach Update

The cockroach died. My dad sprayed it, and it zapped about in its upside down way. In a misguided attempt to spare the critter its pain, I tried to concuss it with the newspaper. It didn't work, and it was only after smacking it (with little effect as far as I can see), it dawned on me that this was a creature that could still be alive if its head got chopped off. There is no concussing of cockroaches. I mean, they are still alive, headless! What's the use concussing them? Cockroaches are a do or die sort. None of your shilly-shallying with the question of health. Darn. You should have seen my sister's face when I told her what I did. Sometimes, kid sisters seem to possess all the sense while keeping none of it for themselves. A pity.

Umm...

There is a cockraoch. No use denying it. And.. it's perched on the computer plug. I feel itchy when I look at it. Eww. Now, it's decided to move. It's on the table now, near the telephone wire. Heeeelllllpppp!!!!

Ok... before I go to bed, should it be the newspaper or the insecticide? Or both?
Plan A, if everything goes the way it should: whack cockraoch while simultaneously spraying it.
Plan B, in the case cockraoch starts flying around madly: spray spray spray! then whack. and spray again.
Plan C: Run away.




Bye.

12 Days Later...

And then the exams are over. You would think I would be elated. I certainly thought so, but then it doesn't work out this way does it... I came home. Smiled maniacally, had a nice bath, ate a nice dinner, and then... couldn't find anything to do. I thought of reading, but the thought really sucked because I feel like I've been reading more than I should have been (and it's true. I HAVE been reading more than I liked.) The next thought was movies! But then, the thought of staring at a screen for 2hrs turned me off, when my mind happily thought in a damned freakish manner (and soooooo... how should this be analysed?) Ugh. I am trying to celebrate my end of exams here!!!! Helllooo!!! Anybody ok up there?? Even reading/watching a mindless (ok, it isn't really) or rather more appraochable piece of pop fiction has become an instinctively analytical task. Darn. Maybe I should just go play pinball on my laptop. At least I don't have to analyse that.
Maybe, tomorrow will be better.

Sparkles

Indulge my obession.. This is soooo pretty!

Be envious

Bought THREE books for the price of TWO. Be reaallly envious of me. =p