Notes from my Notebooks is an eclectic blog of anything, everything, and nothing. My life, reviews, quotes, comments on grammar, travelogs, commentary on pop culture, and maybe even a little about the weather.
It's been quite a full year of posts. I have enjoyed writing TV, movie, book, and stage reviews, posting favorite quotes (especially from Buffy the Vampire Slayer), stating my opinions, revealing grammar pet peeves, and sharing photos.
Thank you, "gentle readers" (to quote Jane Eyre), for reading my blog. Thank you for your comments and encouragement.
I am a big fan of old movies. Now, when I say "old movies," I'm not talking about movies from the 70s and 80s (although, you could consider those "old," and I like a lot of movies from those decades), I'm talking about movies from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. The Golden Age of Cinema.
If you love great quotes and lines from movies, you can't do better than classic movies from The Golden Age of Cinema. Some of my favorite films starred Bob Hope, and he was at his best in the "Road Pictures" he made with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour. These are the best "buddy" movies ever made. The first road picture, The Road to Singapore, was such a big hit and big money-maker, that the studios did what they still do - they wrote sequels. However, these weren't your typical sequels. The road pictures were basically the same concept for each film, they just changed the exotic locale, and the characters' names.
The scripts were written by some of the best (and funniest) screenwriters of the time. However, Bob and Bing actually brought in their own comedy writers to help them with some of the scenes. The comedy writers wrote on the spot on set, and it drove the rest of the cast crazy, especially Dorothy. She came to the set each day knowing her lines and her cues, and Bob and Bing would go off script, using the material from their writers. Poor Dorothy. But it made for great scenes between Bob and Bing.
In The Road to Morocco, Bing plays Jeff, and Bob plays Orville. They are shipwrecked near Morocco, and when they get into the city, they meet Dorothy, who plays Princess Shalmar. And hilarity ensues.
Quotes:
Orville: Look at us. Two on a raft, sunnyside up. "I'll tell you how to get home," you said. "We'll stow away," you said. "No, sir," I said. "Don't be a sap," you said. "No sir," I said. "We're stowin' away, and that's that," you said. "No, sir," I said.
Jeff: Yakety-yakety-yak. What a brilliant conversationalist you are.
Orville (re: rice cakes): I figured two of 'em for one of us was better than one of 'em for two of us.
Jeff: We're gonna get might hungry.
Orville: What do you mean, "get hungry"?
Jeff: We'll toss a coin.
(tosses coin)
Jeff: What's the date?
Orville: Hea --- (pause) 1910.
Jeff (takes a peek): Pretty close. 1911. Well, that's the way it goes. Somebody loses, somebody wins.
Orville: Okay, so you win the nickel. See if you can find any white meat on that buffalo.
Orville: Jeff, you're losin' your buttons. You mean you'd eat me? Without vegetables?
Jeff: Calm down now. Calm down, Junior. I'm not gonna do anything right away. I might not do anything for a week or so. Not until I get desperate.
Orville: Oh, Jeff, you wouldn't like me. Once I bit my tongue and I tasted awful.
Orville: The dead have a way of coming back, you know.
Jeff: Get out. When they're dead, they're dead.
Orville: Not Aunt Lucy. She was an Republican.
(in middle of the desert)
Orville: This must be the place where they empty all the old hourglasses.
Jeff: I think this is what's left after I clean my spinach.
Jeff: Here we go again, Junior.
Song: The Road to Morocco
Jeff: Wonder if you can get a handout in this burg. Boy, I'm starved.
Orville: If that guy wasn't lookin', I'd eat a rug.
Jeff: Plain?
Jeff: Orville, where are you?
Orville: Over here behind these goose pimples.
Jeff: Say, Fuzzy, who is that headstrong, impetuous boy?
"Fuzzy:" He is Mullay Kassim, the desert sheik.
Orville: What'd he come to town for, a manicure?
"Fuzzy:" He loves the Princess Shalmar of Karameesh. He has come here to ask her to marry him.
Jeff: I'd hate to be around when he comes for a divorce.
(a vendor shows him food he can buy)
Jeff: No, thanks, we ate four days ago.
Jeff: You just became an American idiot.
Orville: No, you do it! Who's gonna believe I'm an idiot?
Jeff: Will you look at the head start you got.
Orville: Mother told me there'd be moments like this. I wonder how she knew.
Jeff: What'd that guy hit you with, a piano?
Orville: If he get tough, don't worry about a thing. I'll be right here - under the table.
Orville: You can't sell me! I'm not a horse. It's just he way I comb my hair.
Orville: You can't do that to me! You can't sell me. You don't own me.
Jeff: Well, no. Not now. He does.
Orville: Well, I'm gettin' out of here, see. You might have sold me, see, but you're not gonna deliver me, see. Because I'm not gonna be here, see. No sir, see.
Aunt Lucy (appears to Jeff in a dream): Oh, I can't talk anymore, Jeffrey. Here comes Mr. Jordan.
Jeff: Why, you dirty, underhanded sickle snoot! We were kids together in the same class for years... 'til I got promoted.
Shalmar: Now, Orville, I want you to tell me the truth. Do you know him?
Orville: Well, I used to, but I kinda outgrew him. I don't dally much with riffraff these days, and he's a pretty raffy kind of a riff.
Shalmar: Here we have a proverb: "A goose is beautiful until it stands beside a peacock."
Jeff & Orville (to each other): Say, goose...
Jeff: Now, kiss him on the nose. See if you can straighten that out.
Jeff: Now look, puffy, I want to have a talk with you man to man.
Orville: Who's gonna hold up your end?
Orville (to guards): Oh, find my friend, Little Pete, a little corner to sleep in at the snake house.
Jeff: You big phony.
Orville: Go ahead, Buster, get yourself a rattle to play with.
Jeff: Nice parlay - from you to the snake.
Orville: Cuddle with a cobra. Happy fangs!
Mihirmah: You and I, thus! (kisses Orville on his cheek) And thus! (kisses his other cheek) And thus will my love consume you. (kisses him on the lips)
Orville: From manufacturer, direct to consumer.
Shalmar: I can't understand why you don't like him. I think he's one of the nicest men I've ever met.
Orville: Oh, he's a nice fellow, as nice fellows go. And why don't he?
Orville: Little customs -- you make 'em, you break 'em. They come and they go. Did I ever tell you about Prohibition?
Orville: Right now I could use a hold in my head.
Orville (to Jeff): You've got everything I've got, and you've had it many years longer.
Jeff: We're going to the United States to get hooked up, I tell ya.
Orville: That's not going to save your life. That guy, Hyder Khan's got that jinx of his spread all over the world.
Jeff: Oh yea. Let's see him mess around in Brooklyn.
Orville: Here comes murder incorporated.
Jeff: Call me later.
Mullay (to Shalmar): Oh, that is your plan? Running away with this dog?
Orville: I could show a dog a few things about running right now.
Jeff: Nice going, Junior. Remind me to throw you a piece of cheese in the morning.
Mullay (re: Jeff): Who is this goat? This moon-faced son of a one-eyed donkey?
Orville (to Jeff): I wouldn't let him call me that, even if there is a resemblance.
Mullay: You would dare oppose the will of Kassim?
Jeff: Oppose your will? I'll have you writing one if you mess with me, Jack!
Orville: Now you're talkin'. Go ahead, take a poke at him. We're not afraid of him... are ya?
Jeff: He says she's goin' with him.
Orville: Oh, she's going with him?
Jeff: He says she's going with him.
Orville: He make joke.
Jeff: Funny boy.
Jeff & Orville: Patty cake, patty cake, baker's man. Bake a cake as --
(Kassim bangs Jeff and Orville's heads together)
Jeff: Yes sir, Junior, that thing sure got around.
Orville: Yea, and back to us.
Jeff: Come on, Nipper, shake a slipper!
Orville: Okay, lover, head for cover!
Orville: Say, how did we get loose with our hands and feel tied and everything?
Jeff: If we told anybody they'd never believe it.
Orville: Oh, let's not tell 'em, huh?
Jeff: Shh... proceed.
Orville: Look at that! You know what they are, don't ya? They're buzzards.
Jeff: Yea, and they're carrying finger bowls too.
Orville: Fine way to end up - a box lunch for a bird.
Orville: Hey, what's this "now you see it, now you don't" stuff?
Jeff: We might have known. It's a mirage.
Orville: Sure was a good one. I could even smell the onions.
Jeff: Why, it's Shalmar.
Orville: She must have been visiting a gopher-friend.
Song: Moonlight Becomes You
Orville: I don't know, pal. I don't know whether I can make it. My legs feels like they're cut off near my Adam's apple.
Jeff: I guess that kiss took too much out of you, huh?
Jeff: Come on. Get aboard.
[Orville gets on Jeff's back]
Orville: If I'm too heavy, I'll throw my hat away.
Jeff: Yea, leave your head in it, huh?
Jeff: We'll storm the place.
Orville: You storm. I'll stay here and drizzle.
Orville: That was the dopiest idea. You thinkin' you could skin and horse and putting me inside. How would I look being a horse?
Orville & Jeff: Just the same.
Mullay: There must be no shedding of blood on our wedding night.
Jeff: Hey, did you hear that? Wedding.
Orville: I stopped listening when he said "blood."
Orville: A fine thing! First you sell me for 200 bucks. Then I'm gonna marry the Princess. Then you cut in on me. Then we're carried off by a deadly sheik. Now we're gonna have our head chopped off!
Jeff: I know all that.
Orville: Yea, but the people who came in the middle of the picture don't.
Jeff: You mean they missed my song?
Orville: Goodbye, honey. Don't forget to write. Just send it to the "dead letter" office.
Orville: Set the table, Aunt Lucy. There'll be two more for dinner.
Male Camel: This is the screwiest picture I've ever been in.
Female Camel: When I see how silly people behave, I'm glad I'm a camel.
Male Camel: Oh, I'm glad you're a camel too, Mabel!
Shalmar: You know, Jeffrey, I get the strangest feeling that we've been through all of this before.
Jeff: Looks like I trapped you again.
Orville: And get me. This time I'm bringing home the bacon too. And what a slab!
Orville: Say, I want the Statue of Liberty to be proud of me, so I think I'll powder my nose.
Jeff: I don't think it'll help.
Orville: Aah! Aah! I can't go on! No food, no water! It's all my fault! We're done for. It's got me! I can't stand it! No food! No nothing! No food! No water! Ah-ha-ha-ha! No food! Ah-ha-ha-ha!
Jeff: What's the matter with you, anyway? There's New York. We'll be picked up in a few minutes.
Orville: You had to open your big mouth and ruin the only good scene I got in the picture! I might have won an Academy Award!
In the second half of "What's My Line," we find out that there is another slayer in town. Her name is Kendra, and she is ser.i.ous. There can only be one slayer at a time, and when The Slayer dies, another takes her place. Buffy died at the end of the first season, but Xander revived her. However, it doesn't matter that she was only dead for a few minutes. The Slayer dies, a new Slayer is called. And she has come to Sunnydale to get the job done.
Quotes:
Giles: And you are called...?
Kendra: I am the vampire slayer.
Buffy: We got that part, honey. He means your name.
Kendra. Oh. (to Giles) They call me Kendra. I have no last name, sir.
Buffy: Can you say stuck in the eighties?
Giles: You were dead, Buffy.
Buffy: I was only gone for a minute.
Giles: It doesn't matter how long you were gone. You were physically dead, thus causing the activation of the next slayer.
Kendra: She died?
Buffy: Just a little.
Giles: I'm quite flummoxed.
Buffy: What's the flum? It's a mistake.
Willy (re: Angel): What are you going to do to him, anyway?
Spike: I'm thinking maybe dinner and a movie. Don't want to rush into anything. I've been hurt, you know.
Buffy: I don't take orders. I do things my way.
Kendra: No wonder you died.
Kendra: I study because it is required. The Slayer Handbook insists on it.
Willow: There's a slayer handbook?
Buffy: Handbook? What handbook? How come I don't have a handbook?
Willow: Is there a t-shirt too? 'Cause that would be cool.
Giles: After meeting you, Buffy, I realized that the handbook would be of no use in your case.
Buffy: Well, what do you mean, "it would be of no use" in my case? What wrong with my case?
Buffy (re: Kendra): Get a load of the she-Giles.
Buffy: Maybe after this thing with Spike and the assassins is over I could say, "Kendra, you slay. I'm going to Disneyland."
Willow: But not forever, right?
Buffy: No. Disneyland would get boring after a few months.
Cordelia: I bet you'd let a girl go off to her doom all by herself.
Xander: Not just any girl. You're special.
Willow: Your hair is brown.
Oz: Oh, yea. Sometimes.
Oz: I'm not really a computer person. Or a work-of-any-kind person.
Willow: Then why did they select you?
Oz: Well, I sorta test well, you know. Which is cool, except then it leads to jobs.
Willow: Well, don't you have any ambition?
Oz: Oh yea. E flat diminished ninth.
Willow: Huh?
Oz: Well, the E flat - it's doable, but that diminished ninth, you know, it's a man's chord. You could lose a finger.
Buffy: You and bug people, Xander. What's up with that?
Xander: No. This dude was completely different to Praying Mantis lady. He was a man of bugs, not a man who was a bug.
Xander: Angel's our friend! (pause) Except I don't like him.
Buffy: You can attack me. You can send assassins after me, that's fine. But nobody messes with my boyfriend.
Kendra: Did anyone explain to you what "secret identity" means?
Buffy: Nope. Must be in the the handbook, right after the chapter on personality removal.
Kendra: I'm an expert in all weapons.
(accidentally shoots a lamp with the crossbow)
Giles: Is everything all right?
Buffy: Yea, it's okay. Kendra killed the bad lamp.
Buffy: When this is over, I'm thinking pineapple pizza and teen video fest. Possibly something from the Ringwald oeuvre.
Drusilla (to Angel): Say "uncle." That's right, you killed my uncle.
Buffy: It's your lucky day, Spike.
Kendra: Two slayers.
Buffy: No waiting.
Kendra: That's me favorite shirt! That's me only shirt!
Oz: Oh, look. Monkey. And he has a little hat. And little pants.
Willow: Yea, I see.
Oz: The monkey's the only cookie animal that wears clothes. You know that? (Willow smiles) You have the sweetest smile I've ever seen. So, I'm wondering - do the other cookie animals feel sorta ripped? Like, is the hippo going, "Hey, man. Where are my pants? I have my hippo dignity." And the monkey's just, "I mock you with my monkey pants." And then there's a big coup in the zoo.
Kendra: Thank you for the shirt. It was very generous of you.
Buffy: Hey, it looks better on... well, me. But no worries.
Buffy: Relax. You earned it. Sit in your seat. You eat your peanuts and you watch the movie. Well, unless it's about a dog, or Chevy Chase.
Most of my friends and family, and many of the readers of my blog, know that I am very critical of live theatre. I've been involved in theatre for many years in many roles (I'm talking about acting, directing, writing, stage managing, etc. Although I have also had many roles on stage. *wink*), and I've seen a lot of good theatre and a lot of bad. The first time I saw Les Miserables was in Los Angeles, and I loved it! I loved the music, the set (especially when the barricade comes on), the story, the acting and voices of the performers, and the finale made me cry the ugly cry (as it did my brother who took me to see it). I have seen many touring productions of the musical since then, and regional productions, and I've even seen the high school version performed by a wonderful group of students. The last production wasn't my favorite, and I think I had just become "Les Miserables'd out." That is one of the reasons I was so excited to see the movie. I was looking forward to seeing it in a new and different way.
I was able to see an advanced screening of Les Miserables a week ago. I saw it in a theater full of mostly stage actors - stage actors who love Les Miserables, and were pretty stoked to see it before the general public. I'm sure that most of them, like me, have been anxiously waiting for the movie since it was announced that it was finally coming to the big screen.
I have to say that I wasn't totally impressed. I liked much of the film, and many performances, but there were some aspects of it that disappointed me.
What I Didn't Like:
Okay, first of all, I have to say that I was excited when I heard that the actors were going to film their songs live. I am still glad they did, but because they were able to perform live, I think the songs got lost in the overacting. I felt like some actors put too many unnecessary pauses in the songs, and it made it feel to me like they were overacting. I don't think I will buy the soundtrack, because I didn't feel there were any performances that were better than the versions I already have.
Speaking of overacting, I like Anne Hathaway. I know many people don’t like her acting very much, but I've been one to defend her performances. I think she's a good actress, and I also think she has a nice voice. I loved her rendition of “Somebody to Love” in Ella Enchanted. So I wasn't too disappointed when she was cast as Fantine. I knew she could sing the part. I think she did a good job, until she sang "I Dreamed a Dream." The problem for me was she “acted” to much in the song. Compared to performing on stage, movie acting is very subtle. I felt like Anne was performing to the back row of a live theatre. She did what I call “schmacting.” It was just too over-the-top for me. If she wins an Academy Award for this performance, then I'll know that the members of the Academy like "shmacting" in musicals. *wink*
I was also confused by some of Anne's choices during her big song. In the second verse she sings about her daughter's (Cosette) father: "He slept a summer by my side/He filled my days with endless wonder/He took my childhood in his stride/But he was gone when Autumn came." She pretty much spits out those words in hatred for the man. And then in the next phrase she sings "And still I dream he'll come to me/That we will live the years together." Why would she want to have a man she hated come back into her life? The reason is she really did love him, even though he left her. She was singing of a time when she was happy, and I would have liked to see that in her emotions, not hatred. That's just a personal preference.
I felt like Russell Crowe was all wrong for the part of Javert. He didn't have the right type of voice (especially for singing one of my favorite songs: "Stars"). I also felt like he really didn't want to be doing the part. I felt like he thought it was beneath him to be in a musical. That's just my impression. He may have loved every minute of it. I just didn't get that from his performance. I also hated the way dies.
I didn't like the way the scene in the factory with Fantine was filmed. The actors were looking straight into the camera, as if they were acting to us, the audience. It was very annoying. I'm so glad the rest of the movie wasn't filmed like that. However, there were too many close ups. Sometimes it made me fell claustrophobic, and I'm not generally claustrophobic.
I generally liked Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean, and I think he has a decent voice, but I didn't particularly like his rendition of "Bring Him Home." I thought the key was too high for his voice. I think if they had brought the key down a bit, it might not have been so bad. but I felt he was straining the whole way through. It's very unfortunate, because it's such a beautiful song. There is, however one line in the song that has always bothered me: "He's like the son I might have known/If God had granted me a son." Valjean does not even know Marius, he only knows Marius loves Cosette. He doesn't want Marius to take Cosette away from him. In the book, you know that Valjean actually hates Marius. It shows what a good man Valjean is that, although he doesn't like Marius, he's willing to save his life.
I also felt that Amanda Seyfried's songs were a bit too high for her voice. Other than that, I think she did a decent job as Cosette. Although, she really doesn't have that big of a part in the movie.
What I Liked:
The opening scene was quite epic. I'm not sure why Tom Hopper decided to place his convicts on giant ropes trying to bring a giant ship into the dock, but it worked. I liked that Javert makes Valjean move a large, heavy piece of wood that held the French flag, because it is then that Javert notices the inhuman strength that Valjean has, which is so important for him to know later in the film.
I knew that Colm Wilkinson (London's and Broadway's original Jean Valjean) was cast as the Priest, but when he came on screen there was such an exciting feeling throughout the theater. His voice was wonderful, and he played the part perfectly. It was also great to see Francis Ruffelle, the original Eponine, as one of the "Lovely Ladies." Although I didn't recognize her face, because of all the makeup the prostitutes wore, I certainly recognized her voice. I'm so glad the two actors were given parts in the film.
The moment I heard Isabelle Allen sing "There Is a Castle in a Cloud" as young Cosette, I was totally in love with with little girl's voice. It was so clear, and she sang the song so beautifully. The solos before her scene were sung so "big," with many pauses and "over-emoting," and it was so nice to hear someone singing a song straight, and acting so "small," but still bringing emotion into the song.
For the most part I liked the Thenardiers, played by Sasha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter. I especially like Helena Bonham Carter. She brings such eccentricities and subtle touches to her characters. Both of them brought the comedy that they were cast to bring in the mostly depressing story. I didn't like all of "Master of the House." I thought some of it was too vulgar.
I really started enjoying the production when we got to the scenes with the students. "Red and Black" was directed wonderfully, and the actors had great voices. I especially liked Aaron Tveit as Enjolras. He has a great voice, and was excellent in the role.
Samantha Barks was excellent as Eponine. Her rendition of "On My Own" was wonderful. It doesn't hurt that she performed the role in London for many years. She brought just the right amount of pathos, without making you feel too sorry for her.
I liked seeing who the students were fighting. In the stage version the "enemy" is just disembodied voices. In the film, you could see that they were real men who were doing their duty, and there was even one soldier who showed emotion for what they were doing. It was very moving.
Eddie Redmayne was good as Marius, and his "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" was one of the highlights of the movie. I wish Anne Hathaway had seen him perform that song before she filmed "I Dreamed a Dream." It was heartbreaking to see the tears in his eyes at the beginning of the song. He lost so many friends, and not only did they die, he saw them die. You could feel all of that in his song. I also liked how the song "Turning" was very short and it segued nicely into "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables."
There was a wonderful moment that Javert had that was so touching. After the "battle" he goes to the house where the students' bodies are laid out. Among the men is poor little Gavroche. Javert takes a medal off of his uniform and places it on Gavroche. I almost started crying again.
I loved that there were parts from the book in the film that weren't in the stage version, and I think they added a lot to the story. These included:
Fantine selling her teeth
Valjean escaping into the covent with Cosette
The gardner in the convent is Fauchelevent (the man Valjean saved from under the cart earlier in the film)
The addition of Marius's Grandfather (and they even gave him a line to sing)
It is Gavroche, not Eponine, who gives Valjean the letter Marius writes to Cosette
The finale was good. It was well acted, and very touching, especially when Valjean sees Fantine and the Bishop again. It was disappointing that Eponine doesn't come too, as she does in the stage version, and I missed the beautiful harmony that Fantine and Eponine sing. However, it made sense, because Valjean never met Eponine. Why would a girl he never knew come to bring him to heaven, except to sing beautiful harmony? *wink* The only disappointment I had in the finale was I wanted to see those who died in a more ethereal, beautiful place. I didn't particularly want to see them in Paris, where they were all so miserable.
I definitely think the finale in the stage version is more moving.
As a final note (pun intended): Even though there were things I like about the film, I definitely like the musical better on stage. I think that the stage version is more moving, and actors are cast for their singing ability, not for their "bankability."
This might be my favorite Doctor Who Christmas special. It's up there with "The Christmas Invasion." I loved Jenna-Louise, and I'm looking forward to watching her travels with the Doctor. They have such great chemistry. Their "meet cute" isn't as good as the Doctor meeting the young Amelia Pond, but I think they have better chemistry than the Doctor had with Amy Pond. The preview for the remainder of the season that aired after the special looked so fun, and I think the second half of season 7 is going to be a winner!
Observations: (**Minor Spoilers**)
I love the snowflakes that bite. Who would want to be out in a snow storm now?
I love Richard E. Grant. I just watched him again in a sweet movie I bought quite a few years ago, called Jack and Sarah, and he's so good in it. However, Grant is not sweet in this movie. He makes a great bad guy. Note: Good advice for playing a villain - don't smile.
I love that the Doctor is wearing Amy's glasses.
Love, love, love the new opening credits, especially the quick glimpse of The Doctor's face. And I love how the Tardis doors open at the end of the sequence as if to say "welcome to the newest adventure!"
Top hats are cool. The Doctor's top hat reminds me of the Artful Dodger's top hat in Oliver.
Clara definitely has spunk and gumption. Very good qualities in a companion for the Doctor.
I love that this episode has a few of the Doctor's friends in it: Madam Vastra, Jenny, and Strax.
Alice, the maid, is Annie from Life on Mars. There's a series you should check out. The British version, not the American. Well, the America version was okay, but the British one with John Simm (The Master) is excellent.
I love where the Doctor parked the Tardis in 1892 Victorian England. And I love how he gets to it.
I wonder if any material (sheets or night dresses/shirts) were ever as white as Clara's are. I doubt it. Especially in Victorian England, and where you have to assume she lives.
I love how the Doctor removes his "Amy" glasses when when he hears that Clara's one word response to why he should help her is "Pond."
When the Snow Globe (voiced by the wonderful Ian McKellen) says, "Danger, danger," I expected him to follow up with "Will Robinson." *wink*
The Doctor as Sherlock Holmes - that's a new one. Nice shout out to Stephen Moffat's other great series, Sherlock.
I loved the little exchange when the Doctor is by the pond and Clara is at the window. Matt Smith is so great with small comedic bits.
The Doctor puts his bow tie back on, and he's back in the game!
I'm glad they didn't forget about Alice, the maid, who was on the floor in a dead faint. Someone had to move her. Nice keeping track of little details.
Give the Governess an umbrella. How very Mary Poppin-ish.
I love the new look inside the Tardis. I guess the Doctor spent a lot of time redecorating after losing the Ponds.
I was not ready for the twist. Stephen, you certainly surprised me. Thanks. I like it when it's not predictable.
At least the new Tardis hasn't lost its "whoosing" sound. Some things just shouldn't be messed with.
Matt Smith is a much more physically affectionate Doctor than Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant.
When the Doctor straightens his tie, you know that he's really ready to get down to business.
Did they have mascara in Victorian times? *wink*
The Doctor never heard Oswin's "voice." It was the voice of a Dalek. Unless he means by "voice," that he heard her words.
I have to say it again: I absolutely loved this episode. There are so many directions the season can go from here. Will the Doctor have to keep searching for Oswin through the rest of the season? Will he find her, lose her, and have to find her again? Hmm. So much to look forward to! All I can say is, please Stephen, don't disappoint!
Quotes:
Clara: Snow that can remember. That's silly.
Doctor: What's wrong with silly?
Clara: Nothing. I'm still talking to you, aren't I?
Doctor: What's your name?
Clara: Clara.
Doctor: Nice name. Clara. You should keep it.
Clara: Oy! Where you goin'? I thought we was just gettin' acquainted.
Doctor (to himself): Those were the days.
Clara: Doctor? Doctor Who?
Doctor: When you find something brand new in this world, something you've never seen before, what's the next thing you look for?
Strax: A grenade?
Doctor: A profit. That's Victorian values for you.
Strax: Sir, permission to express my opposition to your current apathy.
Doctor: Permission granted.
Strax: Sir, I am opposed to your current apathy.
Doctor: Thank you, Strax.
Strax (to Clara): Silence, boy!
Doctor (to Clara): That's Strax. As you can see, (to Strax) he's easily confused.
Strax (to Clara): Silence, girl! Sorry, lad.
Doctor: Typical middle child of six million.
Clara: Who are you?
Doctor: It doesn't matter, because you are about to forget you and I ever met. (to Strax) We'll need the worm.
Strax: Sir.
[Strax leaves.]
Clara: You'll need the what? Why? What worm?
Doctor: Don't worry. It won't hurt you. But one touch on your bear skin and you lose the last hour of your memory.
[Strax comes back.]
Doctor: Where is it?
Strax: Where is what, sir?
Doctor: I sent you to get the memory worm.
Strax: Did you? When? (re: Clara) Who's he? What are we doing here? Look, it's been snowing.
Strax: Sir, emergency! I think I've been run over by a cab!
Captain Latimer: Children are not my area of expertise.
Clara: They are, however, your children.
Digby: I think Franny's gone mad, don't you? I think she needs a Doctor.
Strax: Do not attempt to escape or you will be obliterated. May I take your coat?
Doctor: Ooh, talking snow. I love new things.
Doctor: Shut up. I'm making deductions. It's very exciting.
Doctor: What are you doing here?
Strax: Madam Vastra wondered if you were needing any grenades.
Doctor: Grenades?
Strax: She might have said, "help."
Doctor: Don't be clever, Strax. It doesn't suit you.
Strax: Sorry, sir.
Doctor: I'm the clever one. You're the potato one.
Strax: Yes, sir.
Doctor: Now, go away.
Strax: Yes, Mr. Holmes.
Doctor: Oy! Shut up! You're not clever or funny. And you've got tiny, little legs.
Strax: It's the human from the institute. What's he doing here? I suggest we melt his brain using [projectile acid fish] and interrogate him. Other way round.
Franny: Is it one of your stories? The definitely true ones?
Clara: Ah! All my stories are true.
Digby: Like how you were born behind the clock face of Big Ben?
Clara: Accounting for my acute sense of time.
Franny: And you invented fish?
Clara: Because I dislike swimming alone.
Clara: There's a man called the Doctor. He lives on a cloud in the sky and all he does all day, every day is to stop all the children in the world from having bad dreams.
Franny: I've been having bad dreams.
Clara: He's been on holiday.
Clara: Just get back now, quickly.
Digby: You're doing your other voice.
Clara: Yes love, did you notice?
Doctor: That's the way to do it!
Clara: It's cooler.
Doctor (looking at himself in the mirror): Yes it is, isn't it. It is very cool. Bow ties are cool.
Clara: No, the room. The room's getting colder.
Strax: This place is under attack. Remain calm, human scum.
Madam Vastra: Nice to see you off your cloud and engaging again.
Doctor: I'm not engaging again. I'm under attack.
Doctor: Clara!
Clara: Doctor!
Doctor: Stupid!
Clara: You were stupid too!
Doctor: [?] I'm good at "stupid"!
Clara: (grabs the Doctor's hand to run): This way!
Doctor: No, no! I do the hand-grabbing! That's my job. That's always me!
Clara: So, you can move your cloud? You can control it?
Doctor: No. No one can control clouds; that would be silly. The wind - a little bit.
Clara: How did we get up so high so quick?
Doctor: Metal staircase. It's taller on the inside.
Clara: Blimey! You really like to sulk, don't you?
Doctor: I'm not sulking!
Clara: You live in a box.
Doctor: That's no more a box than you are a governess.
Doctor: Go on, say it. Most people do.
Clara: It's smaller on the outside.
Doctor: Okay. That is a first.
Doctor: I never know why. I only know who.
[Gives Clara a key to the Tardis]
Clara: What is this?
Doctor: Me. Giving in.
Doctor: Carnivorous snow meets Victorian values. And something terrible is born.
By the time we come to the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, Scrooge has made the decision to change. He no longer wants to be the man he was. Yet, in spite of this, the future he sees is not of the changed Scrooge, but of the yet-to-change Scrooge. I love that, although we - the audience - know that the dead man everyone is speaking of is Scrooge, Scrooge has no clue. He is trying to find his future self walking on the street, or standing on a corner. It is this Spirit who helps him decide to change "for good" - to make the change for the rest of his, hopefully long, life.
Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it.
"Ghost of the Future!" he exclaimed, "I fear you more than any Spectre I have seen. But, as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart."
Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial; but feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be. They could scarcely be supposed to have any bearing on the death of Jacob Marley, his old partner, for that was Past, and this Ghost's province was Future. Nor could he think of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom he could apply them. But nothing doubting that to whomsoever they applied they had some latent moral for his own improvement, he resolved to treasure up every word he heard and everything he saw, and especially to observe the shadow of himself when it appeared. For he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed and would render the solution of these riddles easy.
He looked about in that very place for his own image; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the Porch. It gave him little surprise, however, for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, and thought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutions carried out in this.
Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about their spoil, in the scanty light afforded by the old man's lamp, he viewed them with a detestation and disgust which could hardly have been greater though they had been obscene demons, marketing the corpse itself.
"Spirit!" said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. "I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now."
"He is past relenting," said her husband. "He is dead."
She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth; but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so, with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry; but the first was the emotion of her heart.
The Ghost conducted him through several streets familiar to his feet; and as they went along, Scrooge looked here and there to find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen.
There was a chair set close beside the child, and there were signs of some one having been there lately. Poor Bob sat down in it, and when he thought a little and composed himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what had happened, and went down again quite happy.
The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him, as before - though at a different time, he thought: indeed, there seemed no order in these latter visions, save that they were in the Future.
"This court," said Scrooge, "through which we hurry now, is where my place of occupation is, and has been for a length of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be in days to come!"
"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in , they must lead," said Scrooge. "But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!"
Stave V: The End Of It
Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!
He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call.
His hands were busy with his garments all this time; turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.
"I don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath, and making a perfect Laocoon of himself with his stockings.
Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs.
Running to the window, he opened it and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious! Glorious!
As he stood there, waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye.
"I shall love it, as long as I live!" cried Scrooge, patting it with his hand. "I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face! It's a wonderful knocker!"
It was a Turkey! He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. He would have snapped 'em short off in a minute, like sticks of sealing-wax.
The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle with which he paid for the Turkey, and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab, and the chuckle with which he recompensed the boy, were only to be exceeded by the chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again, and chuckled till he cried.
Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much; and shaving requires attention, even when you don't dance while you're at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking-plaster over it, and been quite satisfied.
The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present; and walking with his hands behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured fellows said, "Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!" And Scrooge said often afterwards, that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears.
He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurry to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk - that anything - could give him so much happiness.
"It's I. You uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?"
Let him in! It is a mercy he didn't shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!
"Now, I'll tell you what, my friend," said Scrooge, "I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore," he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; "and therefore I am bout to raise your salary!"
"A merry Christmas, Bob!" said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken as he clapped him on the back. "A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I'll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!"
Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did NOT die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, a little heeded them, for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe for good at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.
It was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!
When Scrooge is visited by The Ghost of Christmas Present, he begins to realize that he has been an unhappy, disliked, lonely old man. And most important of all, he realizes that he doesn't have to be. It is while he views the joys of the Christmas season through the eyes of young and old, rich and poor, that he sees what a different life he can have.
He felt he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention.
He... established a sharp look-out all round the bed. For he wished to challenge the Spirit on the moment of its appearance, and did not wish to be taken by surprise and made nervous.
I don't mind calling on you to believe that he was ready for a good broad field of strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much.
Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; and, consequently, when the Bell struck One, and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling.
"There are some upon this earth of ours," returned the Spirit, "who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to use and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us."
Think of that! Bob had but fifteen "Bob" a week himself; he pocketed on Saturday but fifteen copies of his Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his four-roomed house!
"Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day who made lame beggars walk and blind men see."
Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastry cook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding!
The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness in it. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care twopence for it. Scrooge was the Ogre of the family. The mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full a five minutes.
They were not a handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far from being waterproof; their clothes were scanty; and Peter might have known, and very likely did, the inside of a pawnbroker's. But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contended with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the Spirit's torch at parting, Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially Tiny Tim, until the last.
Here again were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour's house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter - artful witches: well they knew it - in a glow!
But if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fire half-chimney high.
The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed: though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas.
And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remember those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him.
If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I'll cultivate his acquaintance.
It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humor.
"He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!" cried Scrooge's nephew. "He believed it too!" "More shame for him, Fred!" said Scrooge's niece indignantly. Bless those women; they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest. She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed - as no doubt it was: all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory! "I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office or his dusty chambers." Scrooge's niece played well upon the harp; and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn to whistle it in two minutes) which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the things that Ghost had shown him came upon his mind; he softened more and more; and thought that if he could have listened to it often, years ago, he might have cultivated the kindness of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton's spade that buried Jacob Marley. But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its might Founder was a child Himself. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge; for, wholly forgetting, in the interest he had in what as going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and very often guessed right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel, warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge: blunt as he took it in his head to be. "A Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is!" said Scrooge's nephew. "He wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!" Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart, that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, if the Ghost had given him time. Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. The Spirit stood beside sick beds, and they were cheerful; on foreign lands, and they were close at home; by struggling men, and they were patient in their greater hope; by poverty, and it was rich. In almshouse, hospital, and jail, in misery's every refuge, where vain man in his little brief authority had not made fast the door, and barred the Spirit out, he left his blessing, and taught Scrooge his precepts.
"Spirit! are they yours:" Scrooge could say no more.
"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance.This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree; but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!" cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand toward the city. "Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!"
Stave II of A Christmas Carol introduces us to the first of the Three Spirits, the Ghost of Christmas Past. As the spirit tells Scrooge, he (or she) is the Spirit not of long past, but of Scrooge's past. Scrooge is able to see what led him to become the man he is, and he begins to regret many things that he has done. He also sees that he was happy once.
All he could make out was, that it was still very foggy and extremely cold, and that there was no noise of people running to and fro, and making a great stir, as there unquestionably would have been if night had beaten off bright day, and taken possession of the world.
Scrooge went to bed again, and thought, and thought, and thought it over and over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and the more he endevoured not to think, the more he thought.
He resolved to lie awake until the hour had passed; and, considering that he could no more go to sleep than go to Heaven, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power.
The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow.
...its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness: being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body: of which dissolving parts no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again; distinct and clear as ever.
He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten.
Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them! Why did his cold eye glisten, and his heart leap up as they went past! Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other merry Christmas, as they parted at cross-roads and by-ways for their several homes! What was merry Christmas to Scrooge? Out upon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done to him?
Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands; adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice:
"Yo ho, there! Ebeneezer! Dick!"
In they all came, one after another; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow.
During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation.
I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest license of a child, and yet been man enough to know its value.
And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed.
It's been a long time since I've read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I have seen many screen and stage versions of the book over the years, but it wasn't until I read the book again that I realized what a wonderful book Dickens wrote so many years ago. He had such a way with words that it is a joy to read every word of the story.
I love this book, and there are so many great passages in the narration that just can't be translated to film or the stage, that I thought I would post those passages that speak to me and that make this book so great. And, just because I can, I will throw in passages that did make it into film and stage versions. However, there are so many, that I'm breaking it up into four posts. Part 1 is Stave I, Part 2 is Stave II, Part 3 is Stave III, and Part 4 is Staves IV and V.
Stave I: Marley's Ghost
I might have been inclined myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile, and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for.
There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot - say Saint Paul's Cathedral for instance - literally to astonish his son's weak mind.
Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.
He carried his own low temperature always about him: he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.
"And therefore, uncle, though it has ever put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"
His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially.
Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often "came down" handsomely, and Scrooge never did.
He lived in chambers that had once belonged to his deceased partner. The were a gloomy suite of rooms, on a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and -seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again.
Nobody under the bed; nobody in the closet; nobody in his dressing gown, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall.
Scrooge had often heard that Marley had no bowels, but he never believed it until now.
"Can you - can you sit down? asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him.
"I can."
"Do it then."
Scrooge asked the question, because he didn't know whether a ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a chair; and felt that in the event of its being impossible, it might involve the necessity of an embarrassing explanation.
"There's more gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"
Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel, in his heart, by any means waggish then. The truth is, that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping down his terror, for the spectre's voice disturbed the very marrow of his bones.
"It is required of every man," the Ghost returned, "that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world - oh, woe is me! - and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!"
"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing his hands again. "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!"
"Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me?"
"How it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see, I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day."
It was not an agreeable idea. Scrooge shivered, and wiped the perspiration from his brow.
You will be haunted," resumed the Ghost, "by Three Spirits."
Scrooge's countenance fell almost as low as the Ghost's had done.
"Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us."
The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley's Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free.
He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a doorstep. The misery with them was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power forever.
Cassia's journey began with an error, a momentary glitch in the otherwise perfect facade of the Society. After crossing canyons to break free, she waits, silk and paper smuggled against her skin, ready for the final chapter.
The wait is over.
One young woman has raged against those who threaten to keep away what matters most - family, love, choice. Her quiet revolution is about to explode into full-scale rebellion.
With exquisite prose, the emotional gripping conclusion to the international-bestselling Matched trilogy returns Cassia, Ky, and Xander to the Society to save the one thing they have been denied for so long, the power to choose.
Review:
First of all, that description is so far from the book I read.
Having said that...
If you liked Crossed, then you’ll probably like Reached. I didn't like Crossed, and I didn't like Reached for the same reason. Nothing happens until the end of the book.
I was bored. I almost didn't finish it. I usually read a book in a couple of
days. It took me a more than a week to finish this one. I just wasn't interested.
I think Ally Condie gave the best description of the book
when she described the characters who were sick – she called them “still.” This book to me was "still." It’s not necessarily
the word you would want to use to describe a book about a rebellion against an
oppressive society. There was no excitement, no suspense. One of the main poems
in the book is “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas. This
book went about as gentle as you could get. I waited for the "quiet revolution... to explode into full-scale rebellion," like the book description said. It never came.
The three main characters, Cassia, Ky, and Xander, are separated from each other through
most of the book, and when they finally get back together it’s so
anticlimactic. We don’t even get a description of the reunion of two of the
characters. And the reason the three are brought back together was so contrived to me. It just didn't make any sense. I didn't like the way the story was told in first person from
the three main characters point of view, back and forth. Sometimes I forgot whose story I was
reading. Like many books written today, the book is written in the present tense. I don't like it, I find it very distracting.
There was a surprising revelation at the end of the book
that I liked, and I didn't see it coming. I’m glad there was one nice surprise
to make up for having to slog through the rest of the book. I also love the cover of the book.
Spike is at it again in "What's My Line, part 1." He wants to kill The Slayer. Shocker. This time he gets a little help from a secret society of assassins called the Order of Taraka. And Buffy is scared. Really scared. It's not often you see Buffy really scared. Add to that pressure, it's Career Fair time at Sunnydale High. Everyone's thinking about what they will do when they grow up, and Buffy feels like her life is already planned out for her. She has one purpose: slay vampires. She's thinking it doesn't sound like a great future.
Oh, and there's a treat in this episode when Sarah Michelle (Buffy) gets to show off her ice skating skills. And she's pretty good.
Quotes:
Xander: These people can't tell from one multiple choice test what we're supposed to be doing for the rest of our lives. It's ridiculous.
Willow: I'm kinda curious to find out what sort of career I could have.
Xander: What, and suck all the spontaneity out of being young and stupid? I'd rather live in the dark.
Willow: We're not going to be young forever.
Xander: Yes, but I'll always be stupid. (pause) Okay, let's not all rush to disagree.
(pause)
Buffy: You're not stupid.
Xander: Cordelia Chase - always ready to give a helping hand to the rich and pretty.
Cordelia: Which, lucky me, excludes you. Twice. (leaves)
Willow: You're not even a teensy weensy curious about what kind of career you could have had? I mean, if you weren't already the slayer 'n all.
Buffy: Do the words, "sealed" and "fate" ring any bells, Will? Why go there?
Xander: You know, with that kind of attitude, you could have had a bright future as an employee at the DMV.
Angel: Buffy! You scared me.
Buffy: Now you know what it feels like, Mr. Stealth Guy.
Buffy: We're having this thing at school.
Angel: Career week?
Buffy: How did you know?
Angel: I lurk.
Buffy: Right.
Buffy: I wish we could be regular kids.
Angel: Yea. I'll never be a kid.
Buffy: Okay then, a regular kid and her cradle-robbing, creature-of-the-night boyfriend.
Cordelia: Oh, here I am. Personal shopper or motivational speaker. Neato.
Xander: Motivational speaker on what? "Ten ways to a more annoying you?"
Xander: They assigned you to the booth for law.
Buffy: As in police?
Xander: As in polyester, donuts and brutality.
Willow: Oh, but donuts!
Buffy: (groans)
Giles: I've been indexing the Watcher diaries covering the last couple of centuries. You'd be amazed at how numbily pompous and long-winded some of these Watchers were.
Buffy: Color me stunned.
Buffy: If you don't like the way I do my job, why don't you find somebody else? Oh, that's right. There can only be one. As long as I'm alive there is no one else. Well, there you go. I don't have to be the slayer. I could be dead.
Giles: That wasn't terribly funny. You notice I don't laugh.
Xander: Principal Snyder. Great career fair, sir. Really. In fact, I'm so inspired by your leadership, I'm thinking principal school. I wanna walk in your shoes. Not your actual shoes, of course, because you're a tiny person. Not tiny in the small sense, of course. Okay, I'm done now.
Giles: You're behaving remarkably immaturely.
Buffy: You know why? I am immature. I'm a teen. I've yet to mature.
Giles: Oh dear, oh dear.
Buffy: I hate when you say that.
Buffy: Excommunicated and sent to Sunnydale. There's a guy big with the sinning.
Willow: So, Giles is sure that the vampire who stole his book is connected with the one you slayed last night? Or is it "slew"?
Giles: Both are correct.
Giles: We can expect to be here late tonight.
Willow: Goody! Research party!
Xander: Will, you need a life in the worst way.
Buffy: You have to admit I kinda lack in the book area. I mean, you guys are the brains. I'll only be here for moral support anyway.
Xander: That's untrue, Buff. You totally contribute. You go for snacks.
Giles: This ring is worn only by members of the Order of Taraka. It's a society of deadly assassins dating back to King Solomon.
Xander: Hey, didn't they beat the Elks in the Sunnydale adult bowling championships?
Giles: Their credo is to sow discord and kill the unwary.
Xander: Bowling is a vicious game.
Giles: That's enough, Xander! Sorry. It's just not the time for jokes. I need to think.
Xander: Well, she didn't go home. I let the phone ring a few hundred times, then I remembered her Mom is out of town.
Giles: Maybe Buffy unplugged the phone.
Xander: No, it's statistically impossible for a 16-year-old girl to unplug her phone.
Willy: I'm stayin' away from that whole scene. I'm livin' right, Angel.
Angel: Sure you are, Willy. And I'm taking up sun-bathing.
Giles: Willow
Willow (wakes up suddenly): Don't warn the tadpoles!
Giles: Are you all right?
Willow: Giles. What are you doing here?
Giles: It's the library, Willow. You fell asleep.
Willow: Oh... I...
Giles: "Don't warn the tadpoles"?
Willow: I... I have frog fear.
Xander: Come one, Cordelia. You wanna be a member of the Scooby Gang, you gotta be willing to be inconvenienced every now and then.
Cordelia: Right, cause I lie awake at night hoping you tweekos will be my best friends. And that my first husband will be a balding, demented, homeless man.
This episode wasn't much better than the previous episode. It's very frustrating. I have actually flip-flopped on two new series. I loved Arrow when it first premiered, and I did not like Beauty and the Beast. Now, I don't like Arrow very much, and Beauty and the Beast is really growing on me. Go figure.
Observations:
I still do not like Helena.
It's funny that when Oliver asks Helena to let him show her how he deals out justice, he takes her to the Big Belly Burger joint. No better way to discuss justice than over a burger and fries.
Oliver says he only kills people when it's absolutely necessary; it's not his opening move. That so annoys me. What gives him the right to decide when it's absolutely necessary to kill someone. Helena would probably say that when she kills it's absolutely necessary too. That's the problem - they treat it like the people they kill don't matter; only their reasons matter.
Helena tells Oliver that she's sorry about what she did to Oliver's mother - for putting her in harm's way when she was dishing out her revenge - that it was an accident. I'm still wondering why Oliver likes this girl. Why isn't he angry at what she did to his mother?
Helena says she's not "getting back" at her father, she's "stripping away at everything that has meaning to him," just like he did to her when he had her fiance killed. Uh, isn't that just another way of saying, "I'm getting back at him"?
Oliver needs to listen to Diggle about Helena. He knows what he's talking about.
Why doesn't Walter ask Moira why she salvaged the yacht? Or did he already ask her in a past episode? I don't remember. Or maybe I've come to the point where I just don't care.
It's been a while since we've heard about Sarah.
It's come to the point where the serious scenes just make me roll my eyes. It's probably a combination of the lines, the acting, and the fact that I don't like Helena.
Oliver finally has some kind of personality when he's showing Helena how to shoot an arrow. Why can't he be this loose and interesting all of the time?
Oliver gives Helena a crossbow in a velvet case. Merry Christmas.
Helena got to say, "You have failed this city." Oliver must really like this girl, and he's nothing if not generous to give her his "calling card" line.
How many people have a copy of "The List," and who created it? Hmm.
Laurel is spoiled when she complains that they're not getting seated quickly enough at the restaurant. When there's a long list of people on the list, you wait your turn. I thought she didn't care about Tommy's money, and the little perks she could get from it. Maybe she's just dated too many rich kids who could give the hostess a big tip and just get in, and she thought she shouldn't have to wait for a table.
The problem with most of the characters in this show is that they're all so self-centered.
If Helena isn't going to work with Oliver, she shouldn't be wearing the "superhero" outfit that Oliver gave her. *wink*
If Helena hates her father so much, and knows that the Triad will go after him and kill him, why doesn't she just kill him herself before this time.
How did Helena get to be almost as strong as Oliver? Just because you want revenge on someone doesn't automatically make you a good fighter.
Quotes:
Helena: I have weakened my father's organization to the point where there is no way he can survive [the Triad's] onslaught.
Oliver: What, and then you have your revenge?
Helena: Then I have justice for what he did to Michael and me. (Side note: Yay! She used the correct pronoun in that sentence! *wink*)
Oliver: It's not justice.
Helena: And what you do is?
Oliver: Would you let me show you?
Diggle: I don't know where the next Olympics are at, but you might want to think about signing yourself up.
Helena: Was I not clear that I wasn't interested in talking?
Oliver: You don't have to talk.
Oliver: Back then I did not do "serious" well.
Helena: This is a waste of time.
Oliver: I'm trying to teach you something.
Helena: What? The least effective way to shoot people?
Oliver: No. Control.
Oliver: Diggle, this is Helena. Diggle is my... associate.
Helena: Wow, any associate of Oliver's --
Diggle: Is absolutely nothing to you, Ma'am.
Diggle: Oliver, what you do is dangerous, and getting confused about who's good and who's bad is a good way to get yourself dead.
Oliver: You done?
Diggle: With this, yes. Everything else, I don't know. I don't know, Oliver. You tell me.
Felicity (to Walter): How was your trip to Australia? I've always wanted to go "down unda." It's just... I have this thing about kangaroos. More of a phobia. They wig me out. They look evil, and I'm sure there are pictures on, like, everything in that country.
Felicity: The money your wife withdrew from the company - I wasn't the only one who tracked it. She was being shadowed by another entity, and whoever it is, they were good. NSA good. But, as you know, I'm good too.
Moira: I don't know much about art, but I do know how to pay for it.
Tommy: Hey, Oliver! And... someone.
Helena (to Laurel): So, you two were together, and now you're dating his best friend?
Tommy: Yea, we're just prime for a reality show, apparently.
Laurel (to Tommy): I never cared about the money, and truth be told, "billionaire" was your least attractive quality.
Helena: I don't speak Chinese, so I'm just going to assume you said, "goodbye."
Felicity: I hate mysteries. They bug me. They need to be solved.
Diggle: Chili cheese fries with jalapenos? That's a cry for help if I've ever seen one.
Oliver: My trust fund is your trust fund.
Tommy: No, that's the easy answer, and believe me, I have loved easy answers.
Tommy: Will I be getting dental? This smile wasn't cheap.
