New Year's (-ish) Resolution Or Dressing Like Jeanne, Continued

That woman can strike a pose--I love the brooch and the pearls and the bow and the bag.


Resolution: Wear more belts, and cardigans, definitely more cardigans!


Resolution: Wear more aprons! Preferably beside frilly curtains.


Resolution: Wear more bathing suits, especially vintage suits with hats and heals.



Resolution: I'm not sure what you call these, but wear more of them. I especially like the lace on the collar.


I already said something about the long sleeved blouse.


I could stand to do without the chicken wire here, but everything else is perfect.

New Year's (-ish) Resolution

...To dress more like Jeanne Crain (especially the young, still brown-haired Jeanne Crain).


Who says you look like a flight attendant if you wear a black blazer over a black skirt?! Resolution: Wear more gloves and hats.


Resolution: Wear more gingham.


A green dress with lace sleeves! Oh la la! Sign me up.


Resolution: Wear more brooches. And this dress isn't half bad.


Resolutions: Wear more furs. And flowers in my hair.


Resolution: Wear more lace and frills! And sew on some super long eyelashes.


Resolutions: Find long sleeved blouses. And high-wasted skirts! To be continued...

Politics and the Imagination

I'm reading Politics and the Imagination by Raymond Geuss at the moment. It's a collection of essays, so I don't feel too bad about saying something about it now, before I've finished all of them. His essay "On Museums" is the most intriguing thus far. He describes museums, along with other institutions, as things that can enlighten taste by freeing it from prejudice. He writes, "A sophisticated taste prefers the complex, the novel, and the subtle over the garish, the routine, and the excessively direct" (108). And, in fact, the cultivation of this taste may lead rather to unhappiness than to happiness (as such tastes are more difficult to satisfy).

He notes a position that opposes his own: "The divergence between calls for criticism and enlightenment and calls for the reenforcement or creation of bonds of communal 'belonging' is one of the many unresolved tensions which virtually all of our social and political institutions ... must face" (111).

I think that it is this very tension between art as innovative and new, on the one hand, and art as carrying past traditions to us, on the other, that is what is so wonderful about art. Which is to say, I think it's only a tension in a minimal sense; mostly, it's just two aspects of art.

And I think that Geuss's emphasis on art as expansive and enlightening over art as uniting is skewed. Another way to say this is to defend both high and low art. Perhaps I'm moved to do this because I like the songs that play on the radio. Perhaps I'm moved to do this because it annoys me when people participate in low culture as if it's a culture outside of their own, which intrigues them only insofar as it's exotic or helps them to "mix with the masses." Perhaps it's that I'm afraid that a too close acquaintance with high culture will ruin me for anything that I can actually afford to enjoy. Perhaps I'm afraid that if all artistic energy is focused on fine art, the rest of culture, including pop culture, will go to hell in a handbag (is that a saying?).

But really, why does being able to enjoy fine wine mean you can no longer stand Trader Joe's two-buck chuck (which I must note was $3.29, last time I checked)? And why does enjoying very fine cheese mean that you can no longer eat what's wrapped in plastic at Safeway? Etc. I like trying fondue in Switzerland, for instance, and I like my mother's chili (which is actually nothing like chili, but rather a combination of ground beef, elbow macaronis and kidney beans, and it's wonderful).


BUT: One of the great things in Geuss's essay (he's complaining about museums that try hard to impose a narrative on their collection): "One of the main points of having a museum in a modern sense at all is that the individual object has some kind of stubborn independence, radical otherness, and it is good for us to be confronted with this" (115). While I don't think it's all radically other, I do think that there's a good bit of truth in this. This point made me remember overhearing some very silly tour guide at the Philip's Collection: "If there's one thing that unifies this museum, it's color." Problems: a) Can you really think of anything more vague than color? b) If there's one thing that unifies any museum, it's color. c) Actually, I thought that the Phillip's collection was a little monochromatic!

Quotation

"Oh, I can tell you two apart! I just can't tell which one's which." --DW (a professor friend, on me and Stearns)

H Street.2

H Street

Above and below: Some of the most awesome stained glass ever!

Perfect Snow Evening

Hopkins and Myrna and Stearns and Carrot and me drinking champagne, eating baklava and ginger cookies, and watching Margie, only my favorite movie ever. (More Jeanne Crain posts soon!)

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Quote

"The point about cooking is that Creon should not be in political life." --the professor I'm TAing for

(Grr that I forgot to write down his comments today about talking ants that eat poison.)

Ilana and the Lincoln Memorial

When Ilana visited, we went to see the Lincoln Memorial, among other things. I was delighted that one of her observations about the memorial was that the font in which Lincoln's Second Inaugural and Gettysburg Address were reproduced was lovely (I've always found it to be a difficult font to read, myself).

Win the Future!

"We can't win the future with the government of the past." --President Obama, State of the Union

I love it, actually!

Eliot Letter.5: On Women, Again

[To Scofield Thayer, 30 June 1918]

"Of course your superior officer is a Lady. They always are. Be PATIENT, I say PATIENT. Be Sly, INSIDIOUS, even UNSCRUPULOUS, Suffering Many Things, Slow to WRATH, concealing the Paw of the Lion, the Fang of the Serpent, the Tail of the Scorpion, beneath the Pelt of the ASS. Under the cloak of imbecility dart forth your scorn and pour the vials of contumely upon the fair flat face of the people. Be Proud, but Genial, Affable, but Inflexible; be to the inhabitants of Greenwich Village a Flail, and to the Intellect of Indianapolis a Scourge. I WILL REPAY, saith the LORD.

I speak from experience, as asst. (I say ASSt.) Editor of the Egoist, which I will send you, numero specimene, if you do not know it. I am the only male, and three (3) women, incumbents, incunabula, incubae."

Sigh. My dear Mr. Eliot, my patience is really wearing thin! You may be moved from being my favorite. writer. ever. if you don't watch out!

P.S. It seems as if TSE were a precursor to our dear PAL's idiosyncratic method of capitalization.


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Bizarre Evening

The Russia House: Everything I expect and desire: dark wood, red carpet, a place delightfully past its prime (but with the sort of craftsmanship that things only get better as they get older and more worn in). And interesting drinks--I finally got to try the Armenian brandy, Ararat, that I've been looking forward to, and it was wonderful. (But why, really, does the bouncer have to have an earpiece?!)

Smith Point: Nothing like what I expected--bouncers and ropes and a line outside and a $5 cover charge to buy over-priced, watered-down frat house drinks with a bunch of 23-year-olds (okay, not watered down, but definitely served in plastic cups). Talk about a place that makes you feel like there are wrinkles all over your face. And no Bush sisters!

On Work

"No man should ever make anything except in the spirit in which a woman bears a child, in the spirit in which Christ was formed in Mary's womb, in the love with which God created the world.

The integral goodness and fittingness of the work of a man's hands or mind is sacred.

He must have it in his heart to make it.

His imagination must see it, and its purpose, before it exists in material.

His whole life must be disciplined to gain and keep the skill to make it.

He must, having conceived it, allow it to grow within him, until at last it flows from him and is woven of his life and is visible proof that he has uttered his fiat: 'Be it done unto me according to thy word!'

...

Every work that we do should be a part of the Christ forming in us which is the meaning of our life, to it we must bring the patience, the self-giving, the time of secrecy, the gradual growth of Advent.

This Advent in work applies to all work, not only that which produces something permanent in time but equally to the making of a carving in wood or stone or of a loaf of bread. It applies equally to the making of a poem and to the sweeping of a floor.

The permanency in it is in the generation of Christ-life. That outlasts time itself. It is eternal."

--The Reed of God, Caryll Houselander


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Pictures: Georgetown and Clarendon

The Potting Shed

"A miracle in a family must be worse than a murder case." --James

I've had my eye on this play ever since my roommate recommended it to me in college. Which is to say, reading this play has been a long time coming.

Graham Greene's The Potting Shed is slightly similar to two plays I've recently read: Like G.K. Chesterton's Magic, it explores the difficulty and truth of the supernatural (in this case, the play concerns a Christian miracle, rather than an evil one [if that isn't an oxymoron]); like The Cocktail Party, this play features a friendly psychologist who assists the main character in his quest for sanity (while The Cocktail Party psychologist is primarily looking toward the future; The Potting Shed's psychologist primarily helps the main character explore his past in order to remember the life-changing event that he'd forgotten).

The novel explores the relationship between belief and unbelief, and the faith required to accept a miracle. Our main character cannot love until he has come to terms with the miracle. In addition, he cannot even think about having children without hope. Here is an excerpt from his conversation with his psychologist:

"JAMES: If I had a child, 1 wouldn't forbid it
fairy stories. They might develop the sense of
hope. If a pumpkin can turn into a coach, even
this dreary room, that tablecloth, those awful
ornaments, could be a palace, with limitless
corridors.

KREUZER: Did you ever want a child?

JAMES: No. I didn't want to create new
convicts for a prison. To have a child you
need hope.

KREUZER: There seems to be plenty of hope,
then, around us. Judging by the birth rate.

JAMES: There should be another word for that
simple sort of hope.

KREUZER: It's enough for most of us."

Childhood itself is an important theme throughout the play. The best character in the play is Anne, a precocious child who drives much of the action. She decides that she's a detective and helps her uncle, James, unravel his past. In addition, the miracle happened in James' childhood--he forgot it in large part due to his atheist parents' denial (they were more concerned with their pet theories than with his health).


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The Wire.3

Stearns and I just finished the third season of The Wire, which concluded with an episode surprisingly far from being depressing. First, some of my favorite quotations:


"It's Baltimore, gentlemen, the gods will not save you." -Burrell

"The job will not save you, Jimmy." --Lester (recommending a life outside of the police work)

"I have elsewhere to be." --Avon Barksdale

This season questioned the relationship between the law and lawlessness. One of the policemen (I'm always unsure about the names of the characters in this show) decided to get the drug dealers off of Baltimore streets by establishing a zone in which they could sell drugs and would not be bothered by the police. He nicknamed it Hamsterdam. This dramatically reduces crime as guns are not allowed in Hamsterdam. It makes the communities happy as it separates crime from them. On the other hand, it creates blocks of vice and degeneration. Also, when one of the drug dealers ties up and steals from the other drug dealers, they yell at the police, demanding police protection. Oh the irony--the men want to do what is illegal with impunity, but the lack of police protection cuts both ways.

The humanitarian workers have a mixed reaction to Hamsterdam. At first, they are concerned. Later, they see some benefits: the drug addicts are more accessible--they can distribute condoms and clean needles and test for HIV more effectively. The humanitarian workers are the first ones to respond to Hamsterdam--even the media does not find out about it until later.

Just as in Hamsterdam, the lawless zone, there is still a call for law and order, so among the drug dealers themselves there is a sort of law. For one, there is an unwritten law against shooting people on Sundays, which is violated when one of Barksdale's men shoots Omar and his grandmother in a taxi on the way home from church. Everyone except the shooter and Stringer Bell is horrified and upset. To apologize for the shooting, Avon Barksdale sends a new hat to Omar's grandmother, to replace the one that was shot off of her.

Secondly, even Avon Barksdale, drug dealer, practices philanthropy. A boxer recently released from prison starts a gym to teach boxing to neighborhood kids, and Avon Barksdale gives him $15,000 for new equipment.

Another aspect of the culture of drug dealing that surprisingly offers insight into the "real world" is the war between two competing drug dealers, Barksdale and Marlow. One of Barksdale's men reproaches his boss when he no longer feels like fighting, "War is war, even if it's based on a lie--you start fighting and you have to keep fighting." Here we see the illegal behavior of the drug dealers as similar to nations fighting (Hobbes says that the only thing that's similar to the state of nature is in international relations).

My favorite character throughout all of the seasons had been McNulty (ask me about my McNulty locket one day!). McNulty and love is one messed up topic, but boy oh boy he comes around this season! One of my favorite moments is when he gets up from the table and walks out on the very attractive political consultant who was trying to sleep with him to get information. And another favorite moment is when he goes to visit Beadie and asks to meet her children.

McNulty's obsession with chasing Stringer and his grief at Stringer's death reveals a real attachment between the chaser and the chasee. McNulty examines Stringer's apartment after his death and discovers a copy of Adam Smith's The Wealth of Nations on Stringer's bookshelf. McNulty asks, "Who the *&%$ was I chasing?"


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The Color Purple

My mass market paperback copy of The Color Purple says on the front, "The Wondrous Pulitzer Prize Winning Novel--Now a Major Motion Picture." And the novel is wondrous.

The form is letters--letters from the narrator, Celie, to God, morphing into letters to her long-lost sister, Nettie, as Celie loses her faith in God, and then concluding with a letter to God, "Dear God. Dear stars, dear trees, dear sky, dear people. Dear Everything. Dear God," when she rediscovers faith in a sort of pantheism.

Celie's voice is not grammatically correct--she uses "us" to mean "we," among other things. I started listening to this novel on CD, with Alice Walker reading, and the affect of the writing is to make Celie a very sympathetic character (I finished the novel in print).

The novel conveys the psychology of abuse: Celie's step-father (who she thinks is her father) sexually abuses her (Celie bares two of his children). Celie, as the older sister to Nettie, does her best to protect her sister from that abuse. From such a childhood her spirit is almost entirely broken, and she simply does whatever she needs to do to survive. She enters into an abusive marriage in order to protect her sister from their step-father. It is not until she meets her husband's lover, Shug, that her spirit begins to return.

The novel also includes letters from Nettie to Celie. Nettie is a missionary to Africa. The letters (which Nettie writes, although she's almost certain that Celie isn't receiving them, and, indeed Celie doesn't receive them till years after they were written) explore the complications of conversion--of bringing a new religion to a people with their own set of beliefs. The letters from Nettie also articulate the troubles caused by colonialization and by traders coming to grow rubber; the troubles caused by, for instance, the construction of a road to the village that the missionaries have joined. In addition, the letters deal with the missionaries' response to the practices of ritual cutting and Female Genital Mutilation.

The novel, so filled with grief and trouble, also contains a good bit of hope and contentment in the midst of very difficult circumstances.


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Guestblog: Stearns on Brideshead as Depressing

Perhaps Brideshead is depressing in some sense, but could we ever forgive Waugh if he wrote a cheery ending? Imagine Charles carrying Julia off to live happily ever after at Brideshead Castle. That would be truly chilling. That would be worse than depressing; it would turn your stomach.

The opening line of an essay I wrote for a tutorial when I studied in England reads: ‘If one reads just the skeleton of events in Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited, the novel is a record of dissatisfaction, loss, and emptiness.’ And this is true, I suppose, but four years later I realize that this sentence needs one more caveat, something like this: ‘and if one is not taking into consideration the state and health of the soul.’

I think my favorite quotation from the text is relevant here:

perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving–stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us.

So many of the characters are ‘straining though and beyond the other,’ which is part of what gives Brideshead its melancholy and hollow edge. But what’s so redeeming is that everyone we care about ultimately finds what he or she strained through the others for: Sebastian finds his monastery, Lord Marchmain makes his sign of the cross, Julia lands in Palestine with God’s goodness (to which she has set up no rival good), Charles prays his ‘ancient, newly-learned form of words.’

And even Brideshead Castle itself—Charles thinks ‘Quomodo sedet sola civitas’ and then corrects himself. Yes, Hooper and the war have devastated so much of Brideshead, but the beaten copper lamp is relit because of the havoc of war and the refugee priest—the ‘blitzed R.C. padre.’ And so the twitch upon the thread extends to all the corners of the story.

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Baby Preacher

I love this video. There is also a version somewhere with (made up) subtitles.

Twitter

"This is a 'dear diary' day." --Brother O.P.

Brideshead Revisited

A long time ago I read Brideshead Revisited and then watch the BBC miniseries. I didn't care for it too much--I remember thinking that Lord Marchmain crossing himself at the end was just way over-the-top-ly romantic. And I like stuff that's over the top, but it was too much, even for me.

This reading I enjoyed far more, although I couldn't sleep after I finished it, because I was so depressed. Waugh did an excellent job of conveying the range of people practicing Catholicism--you certainly can't say that the novel is too neat, nor that it offers too high a view of Catholicism. In fact, the Catholic characters in the novel were, in a sense, the most messed up (aside from maybe Nanny, who seemed, ironically, mostly sane).

Rex's conversion (in order to marry) is one of the most delightful parts. The priest who gives him instruction says, "Then again I asked him: 'Supposing the Pope looked up and saw a cloud and said, 'It's going to rain,' would that be bound to happen?' 'Oh yes, father.' 'But supposing it didn't?' He thought a moment and said, 'I suppose it would be sort of raining spiritually, only we were too sinful to see it.'"

Goodness gracious, though, I really can't forgive Charles for not going to see his new daughter upon his return for Latin America just because he wants to spend time with Julia, his new girlfriend! I suppose we're supposed to see his affair as selfish, and ignoring his daughter as part of that selfishness.

I'm still ambivalent about Lord Marchmain crossing himself on his deathbed. On the one hand, something that's great about Christianity is that it's about faith, not about proof. On the other hand, proof sometimes plays a role (such as with Thomas putting his hand in Christ's side).


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Magic

A couple of great lines from G.K. Chesterton's play, Magic (which is now showing in DC):

On Fairyland:

Morris. "What's his name?"

Patricia. "We have no names there. You never really know anybody if you know his name."

...

Doctor. [Putting his hand on Morris's shoulder.] "Come, you must allow a little more for poetry. We can't all feed on nothing but petrol."

...

Conjurer. "Fairy tales are the only democratic institutions. All the classes have heard all the fairy tales."


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Sparkles!

(Thanks to Ilana!) (Also, apologies for the super close up of my fingers [we can see why I'm not ever going to be a hand model], but I just discovered the super-macro setting on my camera, also thanks to Ilana!)

The Phillips Collection (And Pictures from Dupont)

Stearns and I took advantage of The Phillip's Collection's 90th anniversary free weekend. Alas, crowded art galleries really are a lot of trouble. However, the free champagne softened the blow.

The part of the museum that I liked the most was the permanent collection, which is displayed in the old house. The house itself is beautiful--lovely floors and decorated ceilings and chair rails on the walls. The fireplaces are ornate and there are thousands of them (okay, at least five). There was even a string quartet playing in the great room. There the art is hung sparsely and comfortably; the more recently built annex is just like any other museum and insufferable when it's packed.

Pride and Prejudice, The Mormon Version

Of course there's the epic BBC Pride and Prejudice and the more recent Keira Knightly version. And there's the Bollywood Bride and Prejudice (with the incomparable song, "No Life Without Wife"). But I don't think that I've ever recommended to you, my dear readers, one of my favorite versions of Pride and Prejudice: Pride and Prejudice: A Latter-Day Comedy.

It's set in more or less contemporary America (well, it's set in Utah); it's rated PG--there's no alcohol, and only kissing, nothing more. Elizabeth Bennett is a motivated English major who's working on her first novel; Darcy is a top executive in a publishing company. Liz and her four roommates embark on dizzying romantic adventure (for instance, Lydia and Wickham are intercepted during an attempted elopement to Vegas when Lydia's roommates expose the fact that Wickham's been married before [implicit message: polygamy is bad, bad, bad!]).

Several things are excellent about this film. A) I cannot conceive of a better parody of Mr. Bingley--he is utterly vacuous, but oh so nice and madly in love with Jane. B) Okay so everyone ends up married (more or less), but the film really reacts against the tendency for girls to obsess about men (it features and obviously critiques "The Pink Bible"--a mass market hit telling women how to scheme and connive to snag a man). C) It's hilarious!: the big critique of Wickham is that he's stopped going to church; other scenes are set in the church itself (with some of the girls in long skirts that I haven't seen since my homeschooling days). Plus, Darcy is British and actually charming in his own way.

Highly recommended, particularly for the nights you, dear reader, want to lock yourself up with gallons and gallons of ice cream (as Liz and Jane do).

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Trust

"'Be it done unto me according to thy word' surrenders yourself and all that is dear to you to God, and the trust which it implies does not mean trusting God to look after you and yours, to keep you and them in health and prosperity and honor. It means much more, it means trusting that whatever God does with you and with yours is the act of an infinitely loving Father."

--Caryll Houselander (Is that a girl or a boy??), The Reed of God
(How did I miss this point my whole life?)

"Q. What does that little word 'Amen' express?

A. 'Amen' means,

This is sure to be!

It is even more sure
that God listens to my prayer,
than that I really desire
what I pray for."

--The Heidelberg Catechism

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Georgetown v. Pitt

Last night Stearns and I went to see #22 Georgetown play #5 Pitt, for what I thought would be a really great game (especially given my attachment to both schools--ever since Chevy Troutman left my highschool to play at Pitt, my whole family has been a fan/s). I wore my new Georgetown shirt, although I wasn't quite sure who to cheer for. But when we arrived at the Verizon Center, it was clear: you gotta cheer for Georgetown. This was, in the end, a mistake: Georgetown looked terrible and got killed. We were behind between 13-22 points for the whole game. Pitt looked amazing.

Perhaps particularly McGhee, who is, without exception, the buffest man I've ever seen playing college basketball. It looked sort of painful when he lifted his arms over his head to shoot foul shots. And boy, he hustled.




Regardless of the loss, all of my favorite parts of a Georgetown basketball game were present: I love it at the beginning when they turn the lights down low, turn the music up, and hit the spotlights to announce the players. This year the student section waved glowing towels, which looked like fireflies from the nosebleed section. I tried to take a picture, but you can barely tell.


My second favorite part of the game is when they bring Jack, the Georgetown bulldog out, and he grabs a box representing the other team in his mouth ferociously (I like this sentence better without commas and all of the grammatical ambiguity associated with their lack). This week, Jack had on a preppy gray-and-white striped Georgetown sweater. How appropriate! As Stearns said at the end of the evening (at our May of Teck gathering), "A bulldog is what you get when you take a regular-sized dog and compress it."

Awesomely, there were present two "Georgetown Human Beings"--just like the one from Community! The Georgetown version was half gray and half blue.




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