So, now that I have time to think again, I will be back on the wagon.
S
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The Gregorian
(2 intros to the same story... for my fiction class.)
His speech at the Northern Front had been a success, and he knew it. From flashing his now trademark smile to throwing his muscular arm from above his six-foot frame and crashing it against the unsuspecting podium, he had controlled the separatist audience as a conductor would a symphony. When he first began calling for deurbanization, his Ivy-shaded vernacular and Boston accent betrayed him. But he had learned a lot from those failed campaigns. Rather than speak on the presumption that the separatists would listen to his like-minded ideas of revolution in spite of his pedigree, he now spoke as if all that his pedigree provided him was spite; ideas had become an afterthought. Now, when he demanded that the Metropol bombers be executed, he heard the heckling and the threats from his first campaign; when he ordered that capita-maximums be enforced throughout the Central Territory, he saw his commanding officer killed in the failed mutiny; when he called for mandatory immigrant deportations to Canada, he felt the pangs of Maryanne breaking their engagement; when he denounced the Treaty of Cincinnati, he smelled his son’s burnt flesh from the South Side bombing. Only by wearing his past as if it were a crown of thorns, he knew, could Gregory Bender succeed in winning over New America. Now, as he waved to the adoring crowd from his helicopter, six days before the Territorial Councils would choose a new president, he delighted in sensing that the punctures were deepening. There was no turning back.
_____________________________________________
The hardest part about pulling the trigger, I knew, would be that he remembered my daughter’s name. It’s always what’s worst about undercover work, having to get to know the guy, realizing that they personally aren’t that bad as they say back home. But this is war and I have my duty. There are three separatist leaders competing for control over New America and Gregory Bender is the only one who has the power to inspire its permanent disillusion from the Union. No doubt, with his experience, intelligence, and presence on the stage, he is the most dangerous man in either country. His conviction is astounding and his intense face and large build makes it seem that he is willing to take on the Union with his bare hands. With all the fighting and sacrifice that these people have gone through, they need to believe in someone like Gregory; what’s worse is that he knows this better than anyone and is perfectly willing to exploit it. If I could not see the destruction he’s causing, I’d say there was a beautiful dependence in their symbiosis. The trouble is, after having been in his inner circle for the past two years, I can see that he has given up on any reconciliation between New America and the American Union. It doesn’t matter if he’s discussing military operations with a general or rallying a hall full of widowed housewives, he’s only concerned with making them an extension of his will, a means by which he can satiate his torment. He has witnessed too much and lost too much because of this war to see anything past it. He is beyond compromise. Like me, he is on a suicide mission. That’s is why I must kill him. I just wish the poor bastard would stop asking about my daughter.
His speech at the Northern Front had been a success, and he knew it. From flashing his now trademark smile to throwing his muscular arm from above his six-foot frame and crashing it against the unsuspecting podium, he had controlled the separatist audience as a conductor would a symphony. When he first began calling for deurbanization, his Ivy-shaded vernacular and Boston accent betrayed him. But he had learned a lot from those failed campaigns. Rather than speak on the presumption that the separatists would listen to his like-minded ideas of revolution in spite of his pedigree, he now spoke as if all that his pedigree provided him was spite; ideas had become an afterthought. Now, when he demanded that the Metropol bombers be executed, he heard the heckling and the threats from his first campaign; when he ordered that capita-maximums be enforced throughout the Central Territory, he saw his commanding officer killed in the failed mutiny; when he called for mandatory immigrant deportations to Canada, he felt the pangs of Maryanne breaking their engagement; when he denounced the Treaty of Cincinnati, he smelled his son’s burnt flesh from the South Side bombing. Only by wearing his past as if it were a crown of thorns, he knew, could Gregory Bender succeed in winning over New America. Now, as he waved to the adoring crowd from his helicopter, six days before the Territorial Councils would choose a new president, he delighted in sensing that the punctures were deepening. There was no turning back.
_____________________________________________
The hardest part about pulling the trigger, I knew, would be that he remembered my daughter’s name. It’s always what’s worst about undercover work, having to get to know the guy, realizing that they personally aren’t that bad as they say back home. But this is war and I have my duty. There are three separatist leaders competing for control over New America and Gregory Bender is the only one who has the power to inspire its permanent disillusion from the Union. No doubt, with his experience, intelligence, and presence on the stage, he is the most dangerous man in either country. His conviction is astounding and his intense face and large build makes it seem that he is willing to take on the Union with his bare hands. With all the fighting and sacrifice that these people have gone through, they need to believe in someone like Gregory; what’s worse is that he knows this better than anyone and is perfectly willing to exploit it. If I could not see the destruction he’s causing, I’d say there was a beautiful dependence in their symbiosis. The trouble is, after having been in his inner circle for the past two years, I can see that he has given up on any reconciliation between New America and the American Union. It doesn’t matter if he’s discussing military operations with a general or rallying a hall full of widowed housewives, he’s only concerned with making them an extension of his will, a means by which he can satiate his torment. He has witnessed too much and lost too much because of this war to see anything past it. He is beyond compromise. Like me, he is on a suicide mission. That’s is why I must kill him. I just wish the poor bastard would stop asking about my daughter.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Today's Sharp Sparkle - or - Say It Plain
I think there's too much burden placed on the orgasm, you know, to make up for empty areas in life.
- Woody Allen, Annie Hall
It's the Wednesday morning after the inauguration. Depending on whom one asks, the party is over or the party has just begun.
School began last week, but I feel as if today is the first day. There is a lot of work to do, from here on out.
I felt many emotions during the inauguration. For some reason, I began the day thinking that something extraordinary was about to occur; whether it would be good or bad, I did not know. I packed a lunch that I did not eat; I packed a phone charger, which I did not use, in case there was some catastrophe; I brought my iPod shuffle in case I was stuck in the immovable crowd that never appeared. For some reason, I thought that sensationalism was the name of the day.
Instead, everything happened without surprise, without mysticism.
The potentially groundbreaking message I assumed would come from our new president was muted by pragmatism, history, and wisdom. Although I never thought negatively of the speech, critics said that it lacked the "umph" that other inaugural addresses contained. Maybe, for us who pray to messiahs and bow to the shock and awe, withholding the "umph" was exactly what we needed. Much of what Obama promises is far-fetched and could be construed as pandering. What he does less of, though, is promise that solutions will be easy. Instead of creating the catch phrase, he chose to retell our story with a comprehensiveness that we have not seen in a long time. Obama could not start out with fantastic solutions because his plans for us first require us to reacquaint ourselves with our past, with our identities. Only by knowing ourselves, both individually and as a nation, can we begin to consider what we need to accomplish to reach greater heights. President Obama invoked Lincoln and Washington; he referenced slavery and the hopes our relatives had when they came to this continent. He tried his best to reintroduce us to ourselves, which can only be accomplished by remembering that we are not mainly 9/11, Pearl Harbor, the Super Bowl, the season finale, or the orgasm. Instead, as the inaugural poet laureate Elizabeth Alexander said:
Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks,
raised the bridges,
picked the cotton and the lettuce,
built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Instead of shiny solutions, maybe we need to relearn what a solution looks like and for what reason it's sought.
Maybe we need to relearn that it is us, not Him, who should do the striving.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Soar, Loser
I am trying to get into this awesome looking (legal) fiction writing class. The assignment for next week is to write a 100-word story. Here are some initial attempts:
Gregory did not know what to expect when the plane landed. Last time, reporters outnumbered supporters. Still, he thought that his chances here were good: Many of the candidates were relatively unknown in Phoenix. Gregory’s vocal support of the Cleveland riots won him appeal among separatists, but he had much to prove to the Western Frontier. There was greater fervor here. He thought that he had done enough by calling for Chicago’s immediate conversion to Urbtowns, but his obvious pedigree betrayed his statements supporting the Yeomen.
When his entourage reached the terminal, Gregory was shocked to find General Scarve waiting.
__________________________________
His scars were still evident. She tried not to look surprised when she removed his shirt, but she could not help but gasp. He was used this and was bracing for her inevitable disgust. To his surprise, her fingers followed the marks, gently feeling the thick skin with curiosity rather than the judgment to which he had become accustomed.
She looked up at him. “Are these from the fire?” She asked.
“Mostly. Some were from the surgeries afterwards.”
“You must have been afraid.”
“I am more afraid now, thinking about it, than I was. Back then, I expected nothing different.”
________________________________
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“Are you or aren’t you?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You don’t understand how hard this is.”
“I understand enough to tell you that you better hurry the fuck up. I have work to do, too.”
“See, this is exactly why I am not done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I bet you don’t even know what you are supposed to do. Would you even know it, if I were finished?”
“Hopefully so.”
“Why does it even matter?”
“Everyone else looks done.”
“That’s what they want you to think. Calm down.”
________________________________________
Sophia chased after Eric, reaching for his arm.
“Why can’t you understand that I am a victim, too?”
Eric pushed her to the wall. “You sold us out. I’ve lost so much. “
Their eyes met. Eric stared intently at her with all of his anger, but he never was a good enough actor. He held his glare for only a moment before looking away, his eyes swelled with tears.
“Is this what you wanted, Sophie?”
“No. They said they wouldn’t use everything I told them.”
“Of course they would. They’re fucking jackals!”
Sophia smirked to herself. “So are you.”
________________________________________
Gregory did not know what to expect when the plane landed. Last time, reporters outnumbered supporters. Still, he thought that his chances here were good: Many of the candidates were relatively unknown in Phoenix. Gregory’s vocal support of the Cleveland riots won him appeal among separatists, but he had much to prove to the Western Frontier. There was greater fervor here. He thought that he had done enough by calling for Chicago’s immediate conversion to Urbtowns, but his obvious pedigree betrayed his statements supporting the Yeomen.
When his entourage reached the terminal, Gregory was shocked to find General Scarve waiting.
__________________________________
His scars were still evident. She tried not to look surprised when she removed his shirt, but she could not help but gasp. He was used this and was bracing for her inevitable disgust. To his surprise, her fingers followed the marks, gently feeling the thick skin with curiosity rather than the judgment to which he had become accustomed.
She looked up at him. “Are these from the fire?” She asked.
“Mostly. Some were from the surgeries afterwards.”
“You must have been afraid.”
“I am more afraid now, thinking about it, than I was. Back then, I expected nothing different.”
________________________________
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“Are you or aren’t you?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You don’t understand how hard this is.”
“I understand enough to tell you that you better hurry the fuck up. I have work to do, too.”
“See, this is exactly why I am not done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I bet you don’t even know what you are supposed to do. Would you even know it, if I were finished?”
“Hopefully so.”
“Why does it even matter?”
“Everyone else looks done.”
“That’s what they want you to think. Calm down.”
________________________________________
Sophia chased after Eric, reaching for his arm.
“Why can’t you understand that I am a victim, too?”
Eric pushed her to the wall. “You sold us out. I’ve lost so much. “
Their eyes met. Eric stared intently at her with all of his anger, but he never was a good enough actor. He held his glare for only a moment before looking away, his eyes swelled with tears.
“Is this what you wanted, Sophie?”
“No. They said they wouldn’t use everything I told them.”
“Of course they would. They’re fucking jackals!”
Sophia smirked to herself. “So are you.”
________________________________________
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Go Forth
Up at 10am. This is the earliest I've been awake by 2 hours (after having slept the previous night) in at least 1 1/2 weeks. Am I proud of this? Not really. I am feeling in my element, though.
I haven't been paying attention to any current events. This is probably a bad thing. All that I see in Gaza is terror ("terror" in the traditional sense) and I have no understanding of the actual context, of what is happening on the ground. I remember back to sophomore year of college (jesus, 2002) and using the analogy that Israel is like an artificial organ that the body (the greater region) was rejecting. There is really no way to eliminate Israel completely, given it's political protection by the West and because at this point multiple generations have called it home. The question, instead, is how to find harmony. It's a pretty shallow statement, from my end. Part of me feels guilt for not understanding the situation better (please pass along any relevant readings, if you like), but another part of me thinks that being over-involved in this topic plays into much of the propaganda placing this conflict high above other conflicts that equally deserve my mental space. The conversation, not the opinion, is what elevates the issue.
Not long ago, there was a time when I would have had a stronger opinion on this issue. I think that getting older and truly knowing that I know little about the issue has made me pause more before giving a strong opinion. I hope that this is not a bad overall tendency.
School will get me back into current events. Being forced in front of a laptop for another 14 hours per day in libraries will give me the idle ammo to read up on everything.
Great blog that I just started following: electronic artist Filastine's amazing journeys and perspective. (Great DJ, by the way.)
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Reflections on the Curious Case(s) of Benjamin Button
***Warning: Potential spoiler for both the film and short story***
First, I want to go over what I did like from the film, then the differences and similarities between the short story and cinematic versions of Ben Button, and then critique the relationship between Daisy and Benjamin.
If the film was called anything but the Curious Case..., it would be a rather fine Hollywood film. (I would call it Titanic meets Forrest Gump, except much better written than both.) It was consistent and beautiful. It tried to tell a complex story that spanned through what might be the United State's lifespan as the source of influence, innovation, and ideals that make us all, to some extent, patriotic. Beginning on November 11, 1919, the final day of WWI, and ending just as Hurricane Katrina hits NOLA, it evoked thoughts of innocence and reflection that made the United States such a strong country. Coming into its own after WWI and clearly having lost it's way in the wake of Katrina, Ben's life (and the backwards clock, a great image) could simply be a statement that the United States became and remained great for its wisdom of an elder nation, yet maintaining the innovative spirit of youth. This is reinforced by the final image of the backwards-moving clock being submerged in flood water.
The film also made strides to involve many different perspectives in their characters, probably also something that speaks to the potential for mulitcultural experiences in the United States and abroad. Ben is raised by an African American and the couple who made the backwards clock in the first scene is biracial. Ben meets Irish, English, Russian, and African personalities who all have influences on his life. He spends time in Russia (presumably during the Soviet reign). Daisy also has interesting experiences, dancing in Russia and being a part of a fast-moving and apparently bisexual and promiscuous dancing company (this is pretty light, but nice for a Hollywood film to at least recognize). It does a relatively good job at bringing in new concepts and ideas without flouting them. I doubt many mainstream films have succeeded as much as Ben Button in this.
From a cinematic standpoint, the film had great cinematography and color. It was also cleverly written, with deep as well as humorous parts, making the three hours seems more like two. For a film that tried to say a lot, this is a compliment. The acting was solid, although I think that it could have been much stronger had the early Benjamin been played by a child rather than Brad Pitt. That way, his youth amidst his looks would be better conveyed.
But, these positives are severely negated by 1) it's lack of depth in analyzing Ben's trials, glazing over what complexities in life would come with aging backwards, and 2) not truly being an adaptation of Fitzgerald's short but enlightening character study.
The differences between the short story and film are staggering, both in context and in purpose. As someone who has read the short story numerous times (and, admittedly, a part of the minority of the audience for which this film is intended), I am shocked that they decided to maintain the short story's title. First, the timeframe for the short story is between 1860 and 1930; the film takes place between WWI and Katrina, almost an 80 year difference. This will of course change many of the era-defined circumstances that take place, such as the Ben's great military experience being the Spanish-American War rather than WWII. Second, in the short story, Benjamin is the heir to a Baltimore Hardware fortune and attends Harvard; in the film he is orphaned in NOLA by a button producer and does not have any formal schooling. These differences are admittedly superficial at first glance, but many of these changes can affect how characters are perceived as well as their life experiences that define who they are.
In its' defense, many great adaptations have been superficially modified/modernized, so this mere fact is not dispositive of a credible adaptation. But usually in modernized / contextually modified adaptations (such as Requiem for a Dream, Titus, Paltrow/Hawke's Great Expectations) maintain the basic ideas the drive the original works. The idea in the original short story, though, has more to do with a man who begins life with age - taking both the bad and the good - and then must face the opposite perspective in the end, while still not being taken seriously for the same reason. In early life, Yale rejects Ben for being too old, only to suffer in the future when Ben, now late in life, destroys Yale at football; he becomes a military hero in early life only too see his preeminence falter because he looks like a child late in life; looking like a wealthy distinguished man, Ben wins the hand of the teenage Hildegarde (Daisy, in the film. sort of), only to detest her as he becomes a youth. ("And here we come to an unpleasant subject which it will be well to pass over as quickly as possible. There was only one thing that worried Benjamin Button; his wife had ceased to attract him.") Unlike in the film, where Ben seems to use (and Daisy seems to accept) his excuse of traumatizing their child for leaving the family high and dry, in the short story Ben openly leaves the aging family for more excitement, opting to indulge in his youthful ambitions rather than grow old and settle down. The short story leaves Ben a tragic, if not discontent, hero, rather the dull one-dimensional hero that the film instead chooses.
Father-son relationships also play a much stronger role in the short story. The crux of the beginning is spent on the father reconciling his son's ailment. In the film, the father is another superfluous character. In the short story, Ben must also face his child's conflict with Ben's aging, which parallels the shame that his father originally felt. In the film, Ben meets his daughter once, with the daughter not even knowing that Ben is her father. For me, this is the strongest subplot in the short story; I don't really know why this would be taken out of the adaptation, if not to make Ben less complicated of a character, with less baggage and less conflict at the beginning and end of his life.
The similarities between the two versions of the Curious Case of Benjamin Button are equally tenuous. The only direct parallel is that Benjamin ages backwards. Really, it's only the basic premise of the short story that is at all similar to Fitzgerald's original. And even this similarity seems somewhat gimmicky, as little in the film truly hinges on Benjamin's affliction. I guess that some of the older people in the rest home would have treated him different, but everything could have happened had he been a personable child, except maybe the drinking and sex with the hooker, which seemed to have no bearing on the greater plot.
Besides his interactions with Daisy, nothing Ben did before he began working on the tugboat (something that he could have easily done as a young teenager as well) really dictates the plot or develops his character. During his middle age, he still could have fallen in love and had the affair in Russia, although, granted, he would probably be more prone to going out on the town had he been young. Later in his middle years, Benjamin and Daisy seemed to act as any couple would, living together and trying to begin a family, so there is really nothing special about his age at that time, either. When he decides to leave Daisy and his daughter to go out on his own, the same thing could have occurred with a man who was afraid to commit to his family (which he essentially was).
His desertion at the end of the film is also problematic for me, at least in the sense that the film makes no recognition of the double standard between Benjamin and Daisy. Apparently, in their youth, Benjamin and Daisy got along well; Daisy was able to accept and look past Ben's physical age. When it came time for Daisy to be the elder, Ben could not accept her in that same way. There is no reproach for his lack of faith that the family would work out and Daisy seems to roll with the punches rather well, considering that Ben basically allowed her to fall for him, impregnated her without being dedicated to her, and required her to find another husband to grow old with and to love, even though Ben and Daisy were clearly lifelong lovers. The way in which these two characters are treated is borderline sexist, honestly, and shows more about Daisy's strength than Ben's interesting perspective on life.
In the end, Fitzgerald's original, while short and not as epic as the film, acts more as a character study of how such a person would progress through a life lived backwards. Fitzgerald does not shy away from making Benjamin fallible and honest, taking a cold hard look at beginning life choosing structure and ending with the restlessness of youth. Conversely, the film wants to tell a story, requiring that the characters do not veer too far from a formula that keeps them apart, yet tethered by an undying love. The film wanted to end sentimentally, meaning that Ben needed excuses for his youthful selfishness. The film somewhat succeeds at making Ben sympathetic until the end, but it does so at the expense of the honest assessment of the human condition that made it's original author one of the greatest American writers.
Hopefully up next: something more fun and a Top Films of the Year list...
First, I want to go over what I did like from the film, then the differences and similarities between the short story and cinematic versions of Ben Button, and then critique the relationship between Daisy and Benjamin.
If the film was called anything but the Curious Case..., it would be a rather fine Hollywood film. (I would call it Titanic meets Forrest Gump, except much better written than both.) It was consistent and beautiful. It tried to tell a complex story that spanned through what might be the United State's lifespan as the source of influence, innovation, and ideals that make us all, to some extent, patriotic. Beginning on November 11, 1919, the final day of WWI, and ending just as Hurricane Katrina hits NOLA, it evoked thoughts of innocence and reflection that made the United States such a strong country. Coming into its own after WWI and clearly having lost it's way in the wake of Katrina, Ben's life (and the backwards clock, a great image) could simply be a statement that the United States became and remained great for its wisdom of an elder nation, yet maintaining the innovative spirit of youth. This is reinforced by the final image of the backwards-moving clock being submerged in flood water.
The film also made strides to involve many different perspectives in their characters, probably also something that speaks to the potential for mulitcultural experiences in the United States and abroad. Ben is raised by an African American and the couple who made the backwards clock in the first scene is biracial. Ben meets Irish, English, Russian, and African personalities who all have influences on his life. He spends time in Russia (presumably during the Soviet reign). Daisy also has interesting experiences, dancing in Russia and being a part of a fast-moving and apparently bisexual and promiscuous dancing company (this is pretty light, but nice for a Hollywood film to at least recognize). It does a relatively good job at bringing in new concepts and ideas without flouting them. I doubt many mainstream films have succeeded as much as Ben Button in this.
From a cinematic standpoint, the film had great cinematography and color. It was also cleverly written, with deep as well as humorous parts, making the three hours seems more like two. For a film that tried to say a lot, this is a compliment. The acting was solid, although I think that it could have been much stronger had the early Benjamin been played by a child rather than Brad Pitt. That way, his youth amidst his looks would be better conveyed.
But, these positives are severely negated by 1) it's lack of depth in analyzing Ben's trials, glazing over what complexities in life would come with aging backwards, and 2) not truly being an adaptation of Fitzgerald's short but enlightening character study.
The differences between the short story and film are staggering, both in context and in purpose. As someone who has read the short story numerous times (and, admittedly, a part of the minority of the audience for which this film is intended), I am shocked that they decided to maintain the short story's title. First, the timeframe for the short story is between 1860 and 1930; the film takes place between WWI and Katrina, almost an 80 year difference. This will of course change many of the era-defined circumstances that take place, such as the Ben's great military experience being the Spanish-American War rather than WWII. Second, in the short story, Benjamin is the heir to a Baltimore Hardware fortune and attends Harvard; in the film he is orphaned in NOLA by a button producer and does not have any formal schooling. These differences are admittedly superficial at first glance, but many of these changes can affect how characters are perceived as well as their life experiences that define who they are.
In its' defense, many great adaptations have been superficially modified/modernized, so this mere fact is not dispositive of a credible adaptation. But usually in modernized / contextually modified adaptations (such as Requiem for a Dream, Titus, Paltrow/Hawke's Great Expectations) maintain the basic ideas the drive the original works. The idea in the original short story, though, has more to do with a man who begins life with age - taking both the bad and the good - and then must face the opposite perspective in the end, while still not being taken seriously for the same reason. In early life, Yale rejects Ben for being too old, only to suffer in the future when Ben, now late in life, destroys Yale at football; he becomes a military hero in early life only too see his preeminence falter because he looks like a child late in life; looking like a wealthy distinguished man, Ben wins the hand of the teenage Hildegarde (Daisy, in the film. sort of), only to detest her as he becomes a youth. ("And here we come to an unpleasant subject which it will be well to pass over as quickly as possible. There was only one thing that worried Benjamin Button; his wife had ceased to attract him.") Unlike in the film, where Ben seems to use (and Daisy seems to accept) his excuse of traumatizing their child for leaving the family high and dry, in the short story Ben openly leaves the aging family for more excitement, opting to indulge in his youthful ambitions rather than grow old and settle down. The short story leaves Ben a tragic, if not discontent, hero, rather the dull one-dimensional hero that the film instead chooses.
Father-son relationships also play a much stronger role in the short story. The crux of the beginning is spent on the father reconciling his son's ailment. In the film, the father is another superfluous character. In the short story, Ben must also face his child's conflict with Ben's aging, which parallels the shame that his father originally felt. In the film, Ben meets his daughter once, with the daughter not even knowing that Ben is her father. For me, this is the strongest subplot in the short story; I don't really know why this would be taken out of the adaptation, if not to make Ben less complicated of a character, with less baggage and less conflict at the beginning and end of his life.
The similarities between the two versions of the Curious Case of Benjamin Button are equally tenuous. The only direct parallel is that Benjamin ages backwards. Really, it's only the basic premise of the short story that is at all similar to Fitzgerald's original. And even this similarity seems somewhat gimmicky, as little in the film truly hinges on Benjamin's affliction. I guess that some of the older people in the rest home would have treated him different, but everything could have happened had he been a personable child, except maybe the drinking and sex with the hooker, which seemed to have no bearing on the greater plot.
Besides his interactions with Daisy, nothing Ben did before he began working on the tugboat (something that he could have easily done as a young teenager as well) really dictates the plot or develops his character. During his middle age, he still could have fallen in love and had the affair in Russia, although, granted, he would probably be more prone to going out on the town had he been young. Later in his middle years, Benjamin and Daisy seemed to act as any couple would, living together and trying to begin a family, so there is really nothing special about his age at that time, either. When he decides to leave Daisy and his daughter to go out on his own, the same thing could have occurred with a man who was afraid to commit to his family (which he essentially was).
His desertion at the end of the film is also problematic for me, at least in the sense that the film makes no recognition of the double standard between Benjamin and Daisy. Apparently, in their youth, Benjamin and Daisy got along well; Daisy was able to accept and look past Ben's physical age. When it came time for Daisy to be the elder, Ben could not accept her in that same way. There is no reproach for his lack of faith that the family would work out and Daisy seems to roll with the punches rather well, considering that Ben basically allowed her to fall for him, impregnated her without being dedicated to her, and required her to find another husband to grow old with and to love, even though Ben and Daisy were clearly lifelong lovers. The way in which these two characters are treated is borderline sexist, honestly, and shows more about Daisy's strength than Ben's interesting perspective on life.
In the end, Fitzgerald's original, while short and not as epic as the film, acts more as a character study of how such a person would progress through a life lived backwards. Fitzgerald does not shy away from making Benjamin fallible and honest, taking a cold hard look at beginning life choosing structure and ending with the restlessness of youth. Conversely, the film wants to tell a story, requiring that the characters do not veer too far from a formula that keeps them apart, yet tethered by an undying love. The film wanted to end sentimentally, meaning that Ben needed excuses for his youthful selfishness. The film somewhat succeeds at making Ben sympathetic until the end, but it does so at the expense of the honest assessment of the human condition that made it's original author one of the greatest American writers.
Hopefully up next: something more fun and a Top Films of the Year list...
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
The World I Love
In New York, now. Arrived a few hours ago. It's surprisingly fresh to be back on the East Coast. While I have more sentimental feelings for California, the NY/DC/PA triumvirate feel(s?) more like home. Tomorrow will mark my four year anniversary on the Right Coast. I love it so much here.
The trip is still going on, but I want to think of it as over, mainly for my own sanity. I spent under 45 minutes at home after my last final before traveling to NY, most of which was spent faux-cleaning and packing. Here's the itinerary:
December 18th: New York: finish final exam at 8:45pm in Philly and make it to Chinatown for the 10:00pm bus
December 19th - 23rd: San Francisco: 9am flight to San Francisco but seeing Jared at the airport and the rest of the CA crew later on makes the drag of traveling all better (that said, I am officially a fan of Virgin America's service. It was the best cross-country flight I've ever taken.)
December 23rd - 27th: Sacramento
December 27th - 29th: San Francisco
December 29th - January 1 or 2?: New York, then back to Philly
Traveling to 5 cities in about 15 days? Whew!
More thoughts as I try to unwind on Keith's couch:
- Listening to the new playlist that I made that I cannot turn off. Highlights: James Yuill - This Sweet Love; Louie Armstrong, Stardust; Shinichi Osawa, Last Days; Kim Hiorthøy, Alt Måste Bli Anorlunda; Papercuts - The World I Love; Mystery Jets - Half in Love with Elizabeth.
- Keith said that I should be living in the moment more often. He said this because I am writing reflections here instead of doing something akin to what he is currently doing, which is basically sorting clothes and pieces of paper. It's hard to sort though physical objects when I am sitting on another's couch and have not seen my home in two weeks. All that I have is my head.
- I thought that I would read more during this break so far, but I am much more interested in being generally more active. Law school is surprisingly passive and I need to let myself express my thoughts more rather than taking in another's.
- I am still trying to figure out to what extent writing this blog has to do with your reading my thoughts versus me having a casual outlet to write into the ether. I still don't know. For now, I am hoping that musings on my state of mind as well as my thoughts on art/music/movies/writings/current events are somewhat interesting to others. The only inside information that I have is regarding my own perspective, so this style will have to do for now.
The trip is still going on, but I want to think of it as over, mainly for my own sanity. I spent under 45 minutes at home after my last final before traveling to NY, most of which was spent faux-cleaning and packing. Here's the itinerary:
December 18th: New York: finish final exam at 8:45pm in Philly and make it to Chinatown for the 10:00pm bus
December 19th - 23rd: San Francisco: 9am flight to San Francisco but seeing Jared at the airport and the rest of the CA crew later on makes the drag of traveling all better (that said, I am officially a fan of Virgin America's service. It was the best cross-country flight I've ever taken.)
December 23rd - 27th: Sacramento
December 27th - 29th: San Francisco
December 29th - January 1 or 2?: New York, then back to Philly
Traveling to 5 cities in about 15 days? Whew!
More thoughts as I try to unwind on Keith's couch:
- Listening to the new playlist that I made that I cannot turn off. Highlights: James Yuill - This Sweet Love; Louie Armstrong, Stardust; Shinichi Osawa, Last Days; Kim Hiorthøy, Alt Måste Bli Anorlunda; Papercuts - The World I Love; Mystery Jets - Half in Love with Elizabeth.
- Keith said that I should be living in the moment more often. He said this because I am writing reflections here instead of doing something akin to what he is currently doing, which is basically sorting clothes and pieces of paper. It's hard to sort though physical objects when I am sitting on another's couch and have not seen my home in two weeks. All that I have is my head.
- I thought that I would read more during this break so far, but I am much more interested in being generally more active. Law school is surprisingly passive and I need to let myself express my thoughts more rather than taking in another's.
- I am still trying to figure out to what extent writing this blog has to do with your reading my thoughts versus me having a casual outlet to write into the ether. I still don't know. For now, I am hoping that musings on my state of mind as well as my thoughts on art/music/movies/writings/current events are somewhat interesting to others. The only inside information that I have is regarding my own perspective, so this style will have to do for now.
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